Fucking Pissed.
So I get my review today, which is supposed to be every three months, but its been 4, beside the point; and I dont recieve a raise. I'm infuriated.
Reasons:
1. The manager giving me my review hasn't worked WITH me the entire 'review period'.
"Why are you giving me my review, Tom?" I asked.
"I don't know, actually..." he replied, stopping a moment to think about what I asked.
"Great" I say.
2. The manager giving me my review couldn't think of any reason why I don't deserve a raise, other than...
"You've been here for two years." Tom likes to state the obvious.
"Yeah. Kinda long for a part timer, eh? I wonder why." I like to be an ass.
"Well, we think that you should be further along than you are for having worked here for two years."
"Embellish, good sir." I really like to be an ass. Tom I can be one with and get away with it.
"Well we want to see more of a sense of urgency when you work. Help out the new people, you know."
"Okay... I can understand the urgency thing. I believe that I am a very efficient worker, but I don't break a sweat without damn good reason." I sit in reflection for a couple of moments. "So that means that those jackasses that we just hired are getting rewarded for being retarded, purely based on the fact that they're new?"
Tom had no comment.
3. I am still unaware of what a 'senior part-timer' like myself, has to do differently than everyone else. It's not like I'm working there 5 days a week or anything.
4. No raise means I can't reach the $11 mark for another 6-9 months.
"Not getting a raise is kinda shitty, Tom" I stated.
"I know, but our profit margins haven't been going up as fast as our raise scale has been." He replied, as a matter of factly.
"Okay... So its an economic problem?"
"Basically"
"Want to help me transfer away from economic problems... say, to the Temecula store?" I raise my right brow ever so slightly.
"I don't see why not."
I don't know. I fucking hate the fact that this is an unskilled labourer's job. If I leave my presence wont be missed as far as how the store runs is concerned. I'd love to transfer and the Escondido store is hurting so badly because I'm gone that they fucking grovel. But I know that won't happen.
I can't really be too pissed, I'm notgoing to work in that fucking heap for the rest of my life like the rest of the douchebags I work with will. I have aspirations and will enjoy my job. Not work som shitty 10 hour day five days a week dealing with shithead customers and dickfaced managers. I will contribute something more than a bag of biscottis to society. I will provide them with an education. Somthing they can use forever... not dip into their morning coffee and be done with.
Can I be sorry for those bastards? They have to work a rediculously monotonous job at an age where they should actually be headfirst into a career that will do something more than provide a paycheck. I think an occupation should envelop the person. They should love what they do. Money, i guess can never make me happy. It can make things easier, but not happier. I have more respect for the starving artist than for the rich Trader Joe's manager. At least the artist loves what they do.
Fuckers.
Reasons:
1. The manager giving me my review hasn't worked WITH me the entire 'review period'.
"Why are you giving me my review, Tom?" I asked.
"I don't know, actually..." he replied, stopping a moment to think about what I asked.
"Great" I say.
2. The manager giving me my review couldn't think of any reason why I don't deserve a raise, other than...
"You've been here for two years." Tom likes to state the obvious.
"Yeah. Kinda long for a part timer, eh? I wonder why." I like to be an ass.
"Well, we think that you should be further along than you are for having worked here for two years."
"Embellish, good sir." I really like to be an ass. Tom I can be one with and get away with it.
"Well we want to see more of a sense of urgency when you work. Help out the new people, you know."
"Okay... I can understand the urgency thing. I believe that I am a very efficient worker, but I don't break a sweat without damn good reason." I sit in reflection for a couple of moments. "So that means that those jackasses that we just hired are getting rewarded for being retarded, purely based on the fact that they're new?"
Tom had no comment.
3. I am still unaware of what a 'senior part-timer' like myself, has to do differently than everyone else. It's not like I'm working there 5 days a week or anything.
4. No raise means I can't reach the $11 mark for another 6-9 months.
"Not getting a raise is kinda shitty, Tom" I stated.
"I know, but our profit margins haven't been going up as fast as our raise scale has been." He replied, as a matter of factly.
"Okay... So its an economic problem?"
"Basically"
"Want to help me transfer away from economic problems... say, to the Temecula store?" I raise my right brow ever so slightly.
"I don't see why not."
I don't know. I fucking hate the fact that this is an unskilled labourer's job. If I leave my presence wont be missed as far as how the store runs is concerned. I'd love to transfer and the Escondido store is hurting so badly because I'm gone that they fucking grovel. But I know that won't happen.
I can't really be too pissed, I'm notgoing to work in that fucking heap for the rest of my life like the rest of the douchebags I work with will. I have aspirations and will enjoy my job. Not work som shitty 10 hour day five days a week dealing with shithead customers and dickfaced managers. I will contribute something more than a bag of biscottis to society. I will provide them with an education. Somthing they can use forever... not dip into their morning coffee and be done with.
Can I be sorry for those bastards? They have to work a rediculously monotonous job at an age where they should actually be headfirst into a career that will do something more than provide a paycheck. I think an occupation should envelop the person. They should love what they do. Money, i guess can never make me happy. It can make things easier, but not happier. I have more respect for the starving artist than for the rich Trader Joe's manager. At least the artist loves what they do.
Fuckers.