Friday, November 21, 2008
I got my schedule today for the week of Thanksgiving, and I'm PISSED off--they have me working 11pm Thursday to 8am on Black Friday. These are the precise hours I told them I was NOT AVAILABLE. I've told them over and over again that I can't close on weeknights because it causes me to leave my sleeping children alone when Rusty leaves for work, and yet they keep scheduling me to close on weeknights. It's bad enough I have to work a job that any teenager could get, but the indignity of being so blatantly disrespected is just infuriating. So I'm faced with a dilemma. I could probably get another job at our competitor's store. But the truth is: I don't want another retail job! I hate working retail to begin with, but with my recent health issues cropping up, it is becoming intolerable. What I freaking WANT is my %#@$! coffee shop. OK, Life: you've kicked me in the ass sufficiently--I get it: it's never going to happen. For whatever reason, it doesn't even matter anymore. So if that's not going to happen, I want to go back to an office job. Well, good fucking luck. I've been ACTIVELY looking for an office job for three and a half YEARS now, so I really don't think it's going to happen any time soon.
You know, I loved my Pastry Chef job. I really did. It wasn't perfect, but I loved my job. And I was devastated when I lost it. If only I knew what a permanent ass-screwing my life was going to take when that happened. Three and a half years later I still haven't recovered. I'm still working like a fucking teenager, struggling to keep my bills paid, and stressed out because I am completely dispassionate about my job and feel my life is going NOWHERE. It's killing me, and it's killing my family. It makes me feel useless, stupid and incompetent. I feel like I've done everything possible to change things, and here I am, still circling the same drain. I've gotten so desperate, I've even prayed about it. I can only conclude one of three things: God wants me to continue to suffer, God doesn't give a crap about me, or he doesn't exist. None of those options are particularly comforting.
You know, I loved my Pastry Chef job. I really did. It wasn't perfect, but I loved my job. And I was devastated when I lost it. If only I knew what a permanent ass-screwing my life was going to take when that happened. Three and a half years later I still haven't recovered. I'm still working like a fucking teenager, struggling to keep my bills paid, and stressed out because I am completely dispassionate about my job and feel my life is going NOWHERE. It's killing me, and it's killing my family. It makes me feel useless, stupid and incompetent. I feel like I've done everything possible to change things, and here I am, still circling the same drain. I've gotten so desperate, I've even prayed about it. I can only conclude one of three things: God wants me to continue to suffer, God doesn't give a crap about me, or he doesn't exist. None of those options are particularly comforting.
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