Ding Dong Daddy
Well as almost anyone who reads my sister's journal (flyingfox)...I lost my job yesterday morning. naturaly this would be AFTER I drove fourty five minutes to work.
Aparently my sales skills, (which netted somewhere between five hundred and six hundred bucks between about four people over friday and saturday) are not up to par and I just wouldn't work out over the christmas season. Both my co workers aparently complained about me, (even though the one I worked with most vehemently denied and was shocked at the implication). And the other one called me demonic and told me I was posessed by legion. But evidently making sales while your biblical co worker reads and eats constantly are just not the right qualities for the job.
But I'm not bitter. On no. Just mildly furious.
Because all I all I know that it's not my sales qualities that are the problem, since she gave me a raise last month. It's my haircut. It's the fact that I wear pants, that I don't wear lace, and that I have very short well clipped hair and STILL make sales and get complimented in front of her that was the problem.
So I'm doin ok this morning, I have a good lead on getting a job at Borders and I did before this crap came up.
I have the classifieds on my place, helped mom stack wood, and then I get to hear this lovely load of crap.
Dad went and ranted to my mother last night that I should have worn skirts, lace, and grown my hair long, and worn shoes that put my feet and knees in agony. I should have done all these things, simply so that I would not loose my job.
BITE me dad. I followed the WRITTEN dresscode. To. The. Letter. I was courteous, Professional, and I did a VERY good job. What happened was bullshit and I don't care. I'd rather not work someplace where I can't be respected because I'm not willing to fight with two feet of hair every morning, and because I hate skirts. I look shitty in skits. God people.
Uch.
The stupidity. It's too much.
Aparently my sales skills, (which netted somewhere between five hundred and six hundred bucks between about four people over friday and saturday) are not up to par and I just wouldn't work out over the christmas season. Both my co workers aparently complained about me, (even though the one I worked with most vehemently denied and was shocked at the implication). And the other one called me demonic and told me I was posessed by legion. But evidently making sales while your biblical co worker reads and eats constantly are just not the right qualities for the job.
But I'm not bitter. On no. Just mildly furious.
Because all I all I know that it's not my sales qualities that are the problem, since she gave me a raise last month. It's my haircut. It's the fact that I wear pants, that I don't wear lace, and that I have very short well clipped hair and STILL make sales and get complimented in front of her that was the problem.
So I'm doin ok this morning, I have a good lead on getting a job at Borders and I did before this crap came up.
I have the classifieds on my place, helped mom stack wood, and then I get to hear this lovely load of crap.
Dad went and ranted to my mother last night that I should have worn skirts, lace, and grown my hair long, and worn shoes that put my feet and knees in agony. I should have done all these things, simply so that I would not loose my job.
BITE me dad. I followed the WRITTEN dresscode. To. The. Letter. I was courteous, Professional, and I did a VERY good job. What happened was bullshit and I don't care. I'd rather not work someplace where I can't be respected because I'm not willing to fight with two feet of hair every morning, and because I hate skirts. I look shitty in skits. God people.
Uch.
The stupidity. It's too much.