8/1/05:
Well, this being my first blog ever, it's appropriate that I should start telling about my new life. Of course, how long this lasts remains to be seen. . . I'll have a better idea by the middle of August, or in about 3 weeks.
On June 17th of this year two memorable things happened. My son graduated from High School. And I walked out on a whole line of work that I hated.
Actually, the second happened first. That is, I walked out on the job. Literally. (And I didn't even say good-bye.) If it makes it any better, it was only a crumby waitressing job . Actually the last in a long line of crummy waitressing/bartending jobs. But I didn't know that then.
All I knew was that I was tired of the managers jerking me around. The last straw was when I had asked for all of June 17th off-- because it was my son's graduation and, hey, I wanted to see him. I knew I wasn't going to see him after the graduation. But I thought I might see him before if I had the day off. I was hoping to have an early dinner, where I could give him his graduation gift and we could spend some time together. I knew afterwards he would be too busy with his friends, really celebrating (yes, I have no illusions about what they did), but I hoped we could see each other before.
BTW (my own short hand for By The Way), don't even get me started about how I felt about the graduation taking place at 7:00 p.m. on a Friday Night. I mean, come on. 7:00 PM? He had to be there at 5:30 and it ran almost 2 hours. What if I wanted -- just suppose -- to take him out to dinner afterwards. . . honestly, I really don't think teachers are human. Nor school administrators. At least, not the ones at our school.
Anyway, I had put in a request to have that day off. If you don't know about waitressing, one thing you should know is that while some restaurants (the organized ones) have their staff on a 'set-schedule' (i.e., same shifts every week), other less organized ones are constantly changing the schedule from week to week. I even reminded them the week prior. But, no. They heard what they wanted to hear and scheduled me for lunch that day, thus utterly ruining any chance of a time to celebrate with my son.
I was mad. (Did you know that 'mad' is actually a misnomer: one get's angry, one cannot get 'mad'; they can only go mad, as in, insane.) I tried to deal with this, but there were other factors involved as well-- some serious money factors. They always have parties and functions at this restaurant. When a waitress works a party they are 'tipped' in their pay check for it. Well, I was told I would get 'XXX' amount of dollars and I was going to get that check that very day. I made up my mind that, if I got anything substantially less than 'XXX' amount, I wouldn't bother coming back. Suffice it to say, I not only didn't get 'XXX' amount. . . I barely got 'xx'-- and then they taxed it out the wahzoo!
Gotta stop now. . . more next time.
This is Tracker Mo. . . out there looking for more leads. . .
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