To make my point (and prove that I am not sitting by idly), let me tell you about my morning.
I scour the want ads in several different places on the web every single day. Last night I was up way too late as usual, and reading the help wanted ads. I watched a 20-minute video on a get rich scheme that promised vacations and a grand lifestyle. I just couldn't buy into that. I did bookmark some other jobs for another perusal this morning. As of 11:30am, Wednesday, May 28, 2008, here are the jobs I applied for:
Assistant Bar Manager--basically an Assistant Food and Beverage Director at a country club. (I've done this)!!
Independent Collection Contractor--"deliver notifications on behalf of collectors for several different companies." No collecting of the debt, just notifying. Serious cash, the ad says. I'm into serious cash.... I wonder if I'd be into serious anger?
Assistant Manager--A construction cleaning company is looking for someone to organize and be a taskmaster. This I could do!
Report Editor--A private investigation company is looking for someone to edit their findings. Sounds juicy. It's probably more akin to editing a dictionary.
See? I'm OUT there! One of those jobs is a 7:30am start, another is probably more than I can handle, and the other two are probably bogus, but if you don't ask, you don't get answers.
I still want to work for the chocolatier. Sadly, she hasn't called me back. It's back to the overstaffed restaurant for another shift, I guess.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
I Hate My Job
Maybe I should say I hate my employer. I try very hard not to name the corporation that I work for on this blog. Those who know, please respect that wish in any comment posts. I've worked the foodservice industry for almost 25 years, and I like it. Well, mostly, I like it. This latest stint really has me seething.
First of all, corporate chains are not my gig. I thought I might dislike some of the policy that goes into this kind of restaurant, but as it turns out, I HATE pretty much everything that goes into this kind of restaurant. It doesn't matter if a policy works or not, we have to abide the rule that comes down from headquarters. Things like server check-ins (not really a bad thing) to buddy systems (a very bad thing) that are supposed to make us more efficient so we can schedule less servers, thereby making everyone more money. HA! Last time I checked, we used to have 17 servers on a Saturday, and now we are up to 19 servers on a Saturday. Brilliant. Just brilliant.
Another big disillusion is that I was so excited to work for a restaurant that actually offered up health insurance to a lowly waitress. Well, that's another smoke and mirrors tactic. You see, the open enrollment period is in January. The rules are that you have to get 25 hours a week to qualify. With the gross overstaffing that is required by corporate, nobody gets 25 hours a week. At least not in January when there's barely enough business to keep those who want to work five nights a week at that many nights. I think it's pretty sad that you can drive a 50-mile roundtrip to work five nights a week, make next to nothing so you can fret about making your rent, AND not make the minimum requirement to secure yourself a little bit of piece of mind for your health. That's a trick, boy.
In addition to the corporate bullshit one endures with a restaurant such as this, I have the added bonus of a boss who has no clue about being a manager. The guy has a good heart and is personable, no doubt. However, his scheduling skills are quite lacking, and his organizational skills are nonexistent. I will not even begin to rant about his inability to control his staff. Instead, let me give you a sample workweek.
Wed: 3:15 (Open)
Thurs: 4:45
Fri: 5:30 (Close)
Sat: 4:30 (Close)
Sun: 11:15 (Open and Double Shift)
Mon: 5:30 (Close)
Tues: 4:45
Yes, that's seven in a row. Three closing shifts, in spite of the fact that with 30 servers on staff (four closers needed seven nights a week equaling 28 closing shifts for the week), I get three closing shifts. Can I mention that two of those closing shifts are late weekend closing shifts? Can I point out that after getting home after midnight on Saturday night that I am required to be back for a double shift before noon on a Sunday? Would it be whiny to point out that the Sunday shift netted me $22 and an early cut at 3pm?
I came home and slept. Discouraged? You bet. Sick of making no money? Certainly. Wanting out? Abso-fucking-lute-ly!!
In spite of all of these beefs, I have one that grinds me more than any of these. Oh yes I do... The wonderful world that I work in pays the entire front of house staff next to nothing. Know why? Because the servers have a 3% tipshare taken out of their tips before they get them. That's right, the entire front of house staff gets paid from the chunk that gets taken from my hide. I wouldn't even care if I was making any money. The sad part is that a customer who comes in and thinks leaving his server 15% is doing his part for our bottom line is actually only leaving that server a crappy 12% tip. Of course, I can't explain this to my tables, but I really wish I could. Furthermore, it's come to my attention that a restaurant is not allowed (by federal law) to take more than 15% of what you make for other front of house workers. (They are not allowed to take ANY of what you make for back of house staff, so if you work somewhere that's doing that, get on the phone to a local labor agency)! As it turns out, my restaurant is taking about 20% of what I make. Complaining would be futile since the whole tip issue is such a volatile subject in restaurants. I could see corporate pointing the finger back about how servers don't claim everything they make when they are clearly supposed to claim it all.
I need to get out of this position. And while I am venting like a volcano here, do not think that I have not tried to get out of this restaurant. I am churning out resumes like pamphlets in the doctor's office. I am interviewing, calling, sending emails with resumes attached. I have looked in areas outside of my chosen field and I have chastised myself endlessly for not falling back on my teaching degree. I cannot imagine being tied to a school schedule, and apparently am more content hobbling along on this wage than tying myself to a teaching life.
The saddest part of this disaster I call my career is that the current job is affecting my job interviews. My interview last Thursday started on a bad note. "Tell me your favorite thing about working at xxxxxxx." I'm an honest individual with an up front attitude. I had to tell her that there was nothing I liked about it at this point. Of course, I backed it up with nuggets that she found appalling. I assured her I didn't want this to be a session bashing my current employer, but I haven't heard back from her, and I'm sure this is the reason.
I thought this would be the month I found that job that would fulfill me. Or at least the job that would make my bills not seem like a mountain I have to exert every last muscle in my body to get over the top of every month when they arrive. I really love so much about my life that it's disheartening to feel so fed up with the part that is such a major portion of your daily existence.
I know that it will not always be like this. I'm sure that there are bigger and better things out there for me. I just have to find them. Anybody got a map?
First of all, corporate chains are not my gig. I thought I might dislike some of the policy that goes into this kind of restaurant, but as it turns out, I HATE pretty much everything that goes into this kind of restaurant. It doesn't matter if a policy works or not, we have to abide the rule that comes down from headquarters. Things like server check-ins (not really a bad thing) to buddy systems (a very bad thing) that are supposed to make us more efficient so we can schedule less servers, thereby making everyone more money. HA! Last time I checked, we used to have 17 servers on a Saturday, and now we are up to 19 servers on a Saturday. Brilliant. Just brilliant.
Another big disillusion is that I was so excited to work for a restaurant that actually offered up health insurance to a lowly waitress. Well, that's another smoke and mirrors tactic. You see, the open enrollment period is in January. The rules are that you have to get 25 hours a week to qualify. With the gross overstaffing that is required by corporate, nobody gets 25 hours a week. At least not in January when there's barely enough business to keep those who want to work five nights a week at that many nights. I think it's pretty sad that you can drive a 50-mile roundtrip to work five nights a week, make next to nothing so you can fret about making your rent, AND not make the minimum requirement to secure yourself a little bit of piece of mind for your health. That's a trick, boy.
In addition to the corporate bullshit one endures with a restaurant such as this, I have the added bonus of a boss who has no clue about being a manager. The guy has a good heart and is personable, no doubt. However, his scheduling skills are quite lacking, and his organizational skills are nonexistent. I will not even begin to rant about his inability to control his staff. Instead, let me give you a sample workweek.
Wed: 3:15 (Open)
Thurs: 4:45
Fri: 5:30 (Close)
Sat: 4:30 (Close)
Sun: 11:15 (Open and Double Shift)
Mon: 5:30 (Close)
Tues: 4:45
Yes, that's seven in a row. Three closing shifts, in spite of the fact that with 30 servers on staff (four closers needed seven nights a week equaling 28 closing shifts for the week), I get three closing shifts. Can I mention that two of those closing shifts are late weekend closing shifts? Can I point out that after getting home after midnight on Saturday night that I am required to be back for a double shift before noon on a Sunday? Would it be whiny to point out that the Sunday shift netted me $22 and an early cut at 3pm?
I came home and slept. Discouraged? You bet. Sick of making no money? Certainly. Wanting out? Abso-fucking-lute-ly!!
In spite of all of these beefs, I have one that grinds me more than any of these. Oh yes I do... The wonderful world that I work in pays the entire front of house staff next to nothing. Know why? Because the servers have a 3% tipshare taken out of their tips before they get them. That's right, the entire front of house staff gets paid from the chunk that gets taken from my hide. I wouldn't even care if I was making any money. The sad part is that a customer who comes in and thinks leaving his server 15% is doing his part for our bottom line is actually only leaving that server a crappy 12% tip. Of course, I can't explain this to my tables, but I really wish I could. Furthermore, it's come to my attention that a restaurant is not allowed (by federal law) to take more than 15% of what you make for other front of house workers. (They are not allowed to take ANY of what you make for back of house staff, so if you work somewhere that's doing that, get on the phone to a local labor agency)! As it turns out, my restaurant is taking about 20% of what I make. Complaining would be futile since the whole tip issue is such a volatile subject in restaurants. I could see corporate pointing the finger back about how servers don't claim everything they make when they are clearly supposed to claim it all.
I need to get out of this position. And while I am venting like a volcano here, do not think that I have not tried to get out of this restaurant. I am churning out resumes like pamphlets in the doctor's office. I am interviewing, calling, sending emails with resumes attached. I have looked in areas outside of my chosen field and I have chastised myself endlessly for not falling back on my teaching degree. I cannot imagine being tied to a school schedule, and apparently am more content hobbling along on this wage than tying myself to a teaching life.
The saddest part of this disaster I call my career is that the current job is affecting my job interviews. My interview last Thursday started on a bad note. "Tell me your favorite thing about working at xxxxxxx." I'm an honest individual with an up front attitude. I had to tell her that there was nothing I liked about it at this point. Of course, I backed it up with nuggets that she found appalling. I assured her I didn't want this to be a session bashing my current employer, but I haven't heard back from her, and I'm sure this is the reason.
I thought this would be the month I found that job that would fulfill me. Or at least the job that would make my bills not seem like a mountain I have to exert every last muscle in my body to get over the top of every month when they arrive. I really love so much about my life that it's disheartening to feel so fed up with the part that is such a major portion of your daily existence.
I know that it will not always be like this. I'm sure that there are bigger and better things out there for me. I just have to find them. Anybody got a map?
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Making the Bed
It happens every time there is a sheet change in my house. The rotund Mrs. Kisses absolutely must help make the bed. It starts when I begin removing the old bedding. She jumps up, looks coyly at me and begins acting like a flirty teenage girl. I pull sheets out from under her and she whines. Then she sashays around on the mattress pad, looking completely satisfied with her fat self. I tell her again and again that I'm making the bed and she is in the way, but she ignores my chastising.
When I start the "fwapping" of opening the sheets across the bed, she rolls on her back and looks happy. As the parachute of cotton lands on her, she whimpers again, but doesn't move. As I tuck the corners in and the sheet forms to her beloved mattress pad, she panics and wants out. Her head pops out from under the last open end, then she runs to the part that is flat and clean on the mattress. We begin it all again on the top sheet. I remind her that I'm trying to make the bed while she plays her tent game with the clean sheets.
When we get to the blanket and comforter that just need to be pulled back up, she watches from the pillow area until I get close to the top. She swishes around, peering under to see if there's room for her to dart underneath before I yank the blankets taut again. As I finish the bed with the pillows, she lies in the middle of the completed project looking like a queen. So self-satisfied!
I wish I had gotten a picture of her sassy self!
If anyone wants a beautiful new baby, let me know. A friend of mine has rescued a batch that will be ready very soon. I think she will even deliver to the area! Go look here: http://shaken-but.blogspot.com
When I start the "fwapping" of opening the sheets across the bed, she rolls on her back and looks happy. As the parachute of cotton lands on her, she whimpers again, but doesn't move. As I tuck the corners in and the sheet forms to her beloved mattress pad, she panics and wants out. Her head pops out from under the last open end, then she runs to the part that is flat and clean on the mattress. We begin it all again on the top sheet. I remind her that I'm trying to make the bed while she plays her tent game with the clean sheets.
When we get to the blanket and comforter that just need to be pulled back up, she watches from the pillow area until I get close to the top. She swishes around, peering under to see if there's room for her to dart underneath before I yank the blankets taut again. As I finish the bed with the pillows, she lies in the middle of the completed project looking like a queen. So self-satisfied!
I wish I had gotten a picture of her sassy self!
If anyone wants a beautiful new baby, let me know. A friend of mine has rescued a batch that will be ready very soon. I think she will even deliver to the area! Go look here: http://shaken-but.blogspot.com
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Sweetness
I spent the last two nights acting like I was 16 years old. I don't regret a minute of it, either. So many happy thoughts run through your mind when you meet Johnny Depp, yet the words don't come easily. It's too difficult to sum it all up in mere sentences; the emotion is a little indescribable.
Here's something that did finally settle into my heart as I observed the gracious Mr. Depp with his fans. When he is shaking your hand, he is all yours. His eyes see you, and he hears what you say to him. He is very sincere with his fans, and makes them know that he appreciates them. That's cool all by itself. But there's even more to this gentle man. When he takes your hand to shake it, he instinctively puts his other hand over yours. He really takes in the experience of greeting his fans. When his hands were closed over mine, I looked him in the eye and told him thank you. He replied with, "Ohhh, thank you! It makes a girl want to swoon.
It took me awhile to find the right word to describe him, but here's what I finally got. He imparts you with this calm peace in his presence. Odd how in a frantic five second exchange with hundreds of others waiting to get their own moment, Johnny is able to leave you with such a refreshing peaceful feeling. Wow. He just amazes me.
Without further ado, let me show you my beautiful up close pictures. (The kind folks over at Deppography will probably want that second one in their eyelash thread)!!
Here's something that did finally settle into my heart as I observed the gracious Mr. Depp with his fans. When he is shaking your hand, he is all yours. His eyes see you, and he hears what you say to him. He is very sincere with his fans, and makes them know that he appreciates them. That's cool all by itself. But there's even more to this gentle man. When he takes your hand to shake it, he instinctively puts his other hand over yours. He really takes in the experience of greeting his fans. When his hands were closed over mine, I looked him in the eye and told him thank you. He replied with, "Ohhh, thank you! It makes a girl want to swoon.
It took me awhile to find the right word to describe him, but here's what I finally got. He imparts you with this calm peace in his presence. Odd how in a frantic five second exchange with hundreds of others waiting to get their own moment, Johnny is able to leave you with such a refreshing peaceful feeling. Wow. He just amazes me.
Without further ado, let me show you my beautiful up close pictures. (The kind folks over at Deppography will probably want that second one in their eyelash thread)!!
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