(no subject)
Well, it's certainly been awhile.
I find myself trying to be all "authorly" when I open this thing. I start thinking about writing not for myself, but for my hoped-for audience, and how my hoped-for readers would react or what they'd want to read.
The sad fact of the matter is, a: this is for me, not for anyone else, and b: I don't really HAVE any readers. So, stop that, Paige. Get over yourself and use this for what it is - a place to shout into the void without (too much) fear of repercussion.
I think the last time I wrote in this thing was either just before or just after I went to jail for 24 hours for driving under the influence (of a sleep aid; no, I didn't mean to do it).
An awful lot has happened since then. Here's the main points, I guess:
I guess I'll start with what's currently on my mind the most. I was trying to think of a way to refinance my townhome, as a cash-out refi, so that I could consolidate some debt, do some home improvements, and the like. But my credit isn't good enough to qualify for a decent conventional rate, and an FHA refi would have PMI on it for the life of the loan, which adds an almost extra $100/month to the payments. Sooooo... so much for that.
I tried for a raise from my main job with the media company. The company that is one of the world's most popular websites. The company that spent so much time talking about fair wages for women, closing the 70/30 gap between women and men, and that espouses women in leadership... and lucky me, I do the math and find out that I now make less per hour than my team. Than even the worst performer on my team.
You might be thinking, "BUT PAIGE! You're salaried! So you get your money no matter HOW many hours you're scheduled during the week!" And to that I say, "YES! That'd be great! If I actually only worked 40 hours a week! But I don't! I typically work 55-60 hours a week, or more, and do NOT get overtime or extra compensation for those lost weekends, evenings, and early mornings!"
Being salaried fucking sucks, and I swear to god the next person to tell me "Yeah, but at 40 hours a week, you make a pretty good living!" I am going to ask if they want to do my job, including the additional 20+ hours a week. You want to do 60 hours a week for a 40-hour week salary?
Didn't think so, shut the fuck up.
I love my second job though. It gets me out of the house three times a week, and earns me a cool $150-$200 a week that without, I'd be in a world of hurt. It's for a loan mortgage company, and I'm acting as a remote office assistant, while I learn about loan processing, and eventually work toward getting my LP's license etc. (Yes, this is how I know about conventional and fha loans and rates etc etc haha.)
I get to work with a former schoolmate and we have a really very awesome boss, Kim. Not much more to say there at the moment, except that I really do love it.
I'm starting to get burnt out, though. Between both jobs (totaling roughly 80hour weeks, on average), working out 2x a week with Tamara, and the sheer mess that is my home (neither Josh nor I are neat persons... at all), I feel stressed beyond belief.
I think that's actually what made me want to post this LJ update, in fact... the fact that my house is a wreck, a mess, and it's stressing me out beyond belief. It's so bad that I don't even feel like I can get started on cleaning it up. Have you ever let anything get that bad? It's a bad habit of mine. And I let my home get that way. And Josh is just as bad as I am about stuff like that, except that it doesn't seem to bother him as much as it does me.
It's so stress-inducing that if I could afford it, I'd easily hire someone to come in once or twice a month to clean, just to save myself the stress and worry and feelings of burnout.
I feel like if I could just make enough money to get the house cleaned 1-2x a month, that it would make everything else fall into place. Suddenly, maybe even magically, I would have the energy to cook more often. Or to do laundry more often. Or to do more than come home, and crawl into bed with a depressed whimper. I might even have the energy and desire to have sex again. That's how badly stressed out my house is making me.
And it's so bad that I don't even know where to begin. I look at it, and I can't even pick out a small area to start with; the thing itself is so overwhelming that there feels like there ARE no small steps. And seeing as it's affecting everything from my sleep to my sex life to my stress levels, I'd say it's pretty bad. :(
Dammit.
Why the fuck work had to deny me a raise (like I said, I now make less per hour worked than the people I manage....), I will never understand. I feel undesired, underappreciated, and like all my effort, work, and drive at that place go entirely unnoticed and unremarked upon. Talk about a lack of any kind of incentive.
I think I may say "fuck it" and cut my hours back to 40/wk anyway. And if they fire me for it, I'll sue. If they're not willing to pay me for 60 hours a week, then what they'll get is the work of 40 a week, goddamnit. Fuck.
I find myself trying to be all "authorly" when I open this thing. I start thinking about writing not for myself, but for my hoped-for audience, and how my hoped-for readers would react or what they'd want to read.
The sad fact of the matter is, a: this is for me, not for anyone else, and b: I don't really HAVE any readers. So, stop that, Paige. Get over yourself and use this for what it is - a place to shout into the void without (too much) fear of repercussion.
I think the last time I wrote in this thing was either just before or just after I went to jail for 24 hours for driving under the influence (of a sleep aid; no, I didn't mean to do it).
An awful lot has happened since then. Here's the main points, I guess:
- I went to jail. For a DUI. It sucked, incredibly.
- I bought a home. Technically, a townhome.
- I started dating someone. His name's Josh.
- Josh moved in with me about a year ago.
- I got a second job, so yes, I now work two.
I guess I'll start with what's currently on my mind the most. I was trying to think of a way to refinance my townhome, as a cash-out refi, so that I could consolidate some debt, do some home improvements, and the like. But my credit isn't good enough to qualify for a decent conventional rate, and an FHA refi would have PMI on it for the life of the loan, which adds an almost extra $100/month to the payments. Sooooo... so much for that.
I tried for a raise from my main job with the media company. The company that is one of the world's most popular websites. The company that spent so much time talking about fair wages for women, closing the 70/30 gap between women and men, and that espouses women in leadership... and lucky me, I do the math and find out that I now make less per hour than my team. Than even the worst performer on my team.
You might be thinking, "BUT PAIGE! You're salaried! So you get your money no matter HOW many hours you're scheduled during the week!" And to that I say, "YES! That'd be great! If I actually only worked 40 hours a week! But I don't! I typically work 55-60 hours a week, or more, and do NOT get overtime or extra compensation for those lost weekends, evenings, and early mornings!"
Being salaried fucking sucks, and I swear to god the next person to tell me "Yeah, but at 40 hours a week, you make a pretty good living!" I am going to ask if they want to do my job, including the additional 20+ hours a week. You want to do 60 hours a week for a 40-hour week salary?
Didn't think so, shut the fuck up.
I love my second job though. It gets me out of the house three times a week, and earns me a cool $150-$200 a week that without, I'd be in a world of hurt. It's for a loan mortgage company, and I'm acting as a remote office assistant, while I learn about loan processing, and eventually work toward getting my LP's license etc. (Yes, this is how I know about conventional and fha loans and rates etc etc haha.)
I get to work with a former schoolmate and we have a really very awesome boss, Kim. Not much more to say there at the moment, except that I really do love it.
I'm starting to get burnt out, though. Between both jobs (totaling roughly 80hour weeks, on average), working out 2x a week with Tamara, and the sheer mess that is my home (neither Josh nor I are neat persons... at all), I feel stressed beyond belief.
I think that's actually what made me want to post this LJ update, in fact... the fact that my house is a wreck, a mess, and it's stressing me out beyond belief. It's so bad that I don't even feel like I can get started on cleaning it up. Have you ever let anything get that bad? It's a bad habit of mine. And I let my home get that way. And Josh is just as bad as I am about stuff like that, except that it doesn't seem to bother him as much as it does me.
It's so stress-inducing that if I could afford it, I'd easily hire someone to come in once or twice a month to clean, just to save myself the stress and worry and feelings of burnout.
I feel like if I could just make enough money to get the house cleaned 1-2x a month, that it would make everything else fall into place. Suddenly, maybe even magically, I would have the energy to cook more often. Or to do laundry more often. Or to do more than come home, and crawl into bed with a depressed whimper. I might even have the energy and desire to have sex again. That's how badly stressed out my house is making me.
And it's so bad that I don't even know where to begin. I look at it, and I can't even pick out a small area to start with; the thing itself is so overwhelming that there feels like there ARE no small steps. And seeing as it's affecting everything from my sleep to my sex life to my stress levels, I'd say it's pretty bad. :(
Dammit.
Why the fuck work had to deny me a raise (like I said, I now make less per hour worked than the people I manage....), I will never understand. I feel undesired, underappreciated, and like all my effort, work, and drive at that place go entirely unnoticed and unremarked upon. Talk about a lack of any kind of incentive.
I think I may say "fuck it" and cut my hours back to 40/wk anyway. And if they fire me for it, I'll sue. If they're not willing to pay me for 60 hours a week, then what they'll get is the work of 40 a week, goddamnit. Fuck.