Friday went well. Rosemary was off-duty, assuming she’s Christian and observed Good Friday. I’m Catholic and I forgot to take time off on observance. But since I’m temporary, every penny counts!
Since Rose was away and didn’t do a function, Philip dumped two Elite screens on me! Every hour, I was to monitor the “back orders” and “sales order” that are on “credit hold”!
See? TPTB and pals are reading this weblog! I’ve absorbed the karma in the form of extra work from my very own words!
As a result, I’ll charge the customer’s credit cards, ensure they’re at least “pending settlement”, and release their “credit hold”. Bam! That straightforward.
I don’t mind extra stuff as long as I can get it done without exploding from hypertension! I’m not used to working hard after the un/deremployed “hiatus”.
And as such, I’ve initially sustained spasms of coughing episodes from acclimating to the cooties of this foreign environ. I’m ALWAYS like that at any new job. I’m not THAT strong physically!
Towards the end of the day, Philip reminded me to talk with HR. I forgot around 1030, that morning. Hah! I’m old! Fucking idiots! They’re just like shrinks! All they do is listen and do nothing!
Trust me in this one, folks. I’ve had to report a male co-worker twice to HR in my past job and nothing was done, really. That’s all FUCKED up! I didn’t know he went through a divorce and had a gambling debt until AFTER the fact/two incidences!
That’s why I’m adamant that y’all give me a heads up/inform me in advance on any and all cracker doodle heads! So, I could avoid these freaky characters and keep it cool, if I’m to work with them closely!
I’m not too uncomfortable as long as the freaky guy stays away. But if that’s a sign from the Almighty, I might as well decline any job opportunities at that temp job from hell. But Mom said, no, just because of him, you’d leave? Yup.
After I returned from HR around 1600, Philip wheeled his chair over by desk and told me that I could take my overtime or whatever he said with breaks or wherever else he said because I was busy writing the recipient’s mailing address for paper invoices, which isn’t really “going green” and wasn’t really listening and didn’t really hear him well as usual because of my hearing disability.
I blurted out that I don’t believe I overtimes, after I said I’ll shave off the hours next Monday. I said that without looking up and while still handwriting the addresses on large white envelops. He said, thank you. And I barely, audibly mumbled under my breath that in the past pigeon-holed job, I’d sit through my breaks and lunches.
Then before evening mass Saturday, I told Mom which wage type I should take, if they offered me a job. She said whatever is better for me.
I’m thinking of salaried wage, which is reserved for supervisors, managers, officers, and other types of jobs. But I’ve no supervisory position. Big freaking deal.
All my life I’ve been on hourly wage, or “non-exempt”, meaning I get 1.5 hours for overtimes. And that’s good for those who need it. I don’t care for money anymore fit myself. It’s gonna go to “my boys” anyway!
Whereas there are perks for salaried employees, who get to shave their sick/vacation times and doctor appointments. I’ve read online that salaried workers get flexible hours but don’t get paid for overtime.
They get to work long hours and pick up the extra work left behind others. Hmm. And I did inform Philip that I’m a bit of a hog in claiming more work than I could handle! I’ve failed to provide him data on the McK account. My bad! Fire me now! I quit, now! NOT!
Surprisingly, Laurie, the troll opened up a topic via the work’s Instant Message system, in which she shared how her eyes got tired. I shared how my eyes are bad too and felt sleepy Thursday.
Later, I hinted my age and mentioned being over the hills, but without the gray hairs obviously showing on my noggin. She has gray hairs. I said Mom wanted silver hairs. I told her I look forward to old age.
Anyway that was Friday. Mom and Dad didn’t want to park far away at OLP and was 45 minutes late at the local church. They were still doing the station of the cross. They managed to eat lunch before attending Good Friday mass of three hours long!
They went to Costco, Target and didn’t find a microwave oven until Fry’s Electronics, where an SA Indian was waiting to serve then. Coincidence! They were exiting and Mom paused, thought that dinner can’t be warmed up without that be kitchen appliance, and got a box from the display I the middle of the passage.
En route to my mid-afternoon break, I heard Rosemary talking to that guy and she said “anyway”. He said “anyway”. Yup. Keep reading, chumps. And I’ll let it all out! Nah. Not really. That’s stupid.
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