How Fridays come and go. A big work thing sparked up during my last hour on the clock because of course it did. There’s never anything urgent Monday through Wednesday because everyone needs a quick hit of anxiety when all we’re wanting is a bit of the weekend.
I am grateful for work and life but in the end I sometimes think my job needs to slow down. I worry it’ll get too big for it’s britches so the moment there’s too much pressure it’ll burst. And it won’t be like the hulk where they just turn into pants. All the fibers will explode and there will be exposure to a sense of vulnerability they forgot about.
In a way this is just me saying I’m tired of having more, new work pushed on me because they know I need the work and they know they could fire me at any moment and they know I’m not a quitter. It just feels bad knowing they have the power to pay me what I deserve but they won’t. And it feels worse when they continually say “we’re making more money now than we ever have” but they snub their nose at paying any of us a thriveable wage.
My boss lives in an Uber-expensive part of one of the most expensive cities on earth and refused to compensate our technicians – the people who actually get the info we need to work – above a minimum wage because he views them as expendable.
It means less to me when they view me as little. However, I will not sit idly by when you insult my team, hear they’re living paycheck-to-paycheck, and then still refuse them their right to survive. I’ll sacrifice my wages so others earn more if that’s what it takes. If only my boss had a level of empathy like the rest of us and maybe we’d all be working a little harder.
Love you Amelia, Marie, mom, dad, sis, kitty