(no subject)
December 23, 2006:
and this target team member cried waa, waa, waa all the way home
The hatred I have towards my job has nothing to with how late I get home every night (2am) or how I’m constantly overscheduled no matter how many times I remind HR I can only work a certain amount of hours or how my name tag STILL says New Team Member even though I have been working at the store for over 9 months (I’m an “Old” Team Member, goddammit!) or how it is stated loud and clear over the PA; “Attention Target Guests: the store is now closed” (aka get the fuck out!) yet people keep browsing and asking questions. I hate my job because it is a constant reminder of how lonely i really am. And it gets heavier and heavier with every passing day. When we close, everyone huddles up and jokes around, laughing and gossiping and I’m never included and it simply because I cannot hear.
I can see it.
It’s not discrimination; it’s no fault of theirs. It’s no one’s responsibility to be my personal hearing aid. And even if I do try and ask, “What are you guys talking about?” they’d have to repeat themselves 10 times and by that time the joke has died. I know it’s frustrating.
I really, really, really don’t know what I’m going to do. Not with my job, but with my life.
It’s just me and Wesley till the day he dies, because when he goes, I’m gonna go too.
and this target team member cried waa, waa, waa all the way home
The hatred I have towards my job has nothing to with how late I get home every night (2am) or how I’m constantly overscheduled no matter how many times I remind HR I can only work a certain amount of hours or how my name tag STILL says New Team Member even though I have been working at the store for over 9 months (I’m an “Old” Team Member, goddammit!) or how it is stated loud and clear over the PA; “Attention Target Guests: the store is now closed” (aka get the fuck out!) yet people keep browsing and asking questions. I hate my job because it is a constant reminder of how lonely i really am. And it gets heavier and heavier with every passing day. When we close, everyone huddles up and jokes around, laughing and gossiping and I’m never included and it simply because I cannot hear.
I can see it.
It’s not discrimination; it’s no fault of theirs. It’s no one’s responsibility to be my personal hearing aid. And even if I do try and ask, “What are you guys talking about?” they’d have to repeat themselves 10 times and by that time the joke has died. I know it’s frustrating.
I really, really, really don’t know what I’m going to do. Not with my job, but with my life.
It’s just me and Wesley till the day he dies, because when he goes, I’m gonna go too.