Work dramas

Note: This is a journal entry — it was written on paper or on my computer, then transferred to my website, maybe years later.

Wow! I read that back, and it seems like a million years ago, not four days.  No wonder I can’t even remember when it was that something happened; I cram so much shit into my life that it seems like I’m living a month for every two weeks that go by.

Well, I guess it was Tuesday that I went ahead and told Danny about the typing job and how broke I was, and how I was gonna have to take that job unless I got some kind of promises, but quick.  I told him he had until Wednesday when I meet with the typing lady, to come up with a better deal for me.  I lied and said she was offering me $22M instead of the $20M she actually said — I would make a good poker player, huh!  So anyway, he went and talked to Ginny, the assistant to the head of broadcast, George B., who’s on vacation and missing a lot of fun!?! Ginny’s been going back and forth between me and my personnel lady, Jane W., and I think they’ve come up with something but I’m not sure what.  I know for a fact that they won’t give me $22 like I wanted, but if they can give me $20 I’ll probably do it.  Stay, I mean.  Because after talking to Shelley for a long time last night, I’m reconsidering how wise a decision it would be to work at that typing place.  For one thing, no benefits.  And another thing — she’s gonna pay me as contract labor, so she won’t be paying my taxes or Social Security.  She led me to believe that I’d just have to make my estimated payments, and that would be the same amount as what she would’ve paid.  But Shelley has worked that way before, and she says that’s not true. She says that when the employer pays Social Security, THEY have to pay half, and you pay the other half.  By doing it as contract labor, I’d be paying the full amount.  Which isn’t all that much one month at a time, but adds up.  Shelley says it’s actually against federal law to pay someone as contract labor when they’re working at the store, every day, like any normal job.  When you’re doing piece work at your home, okay, or when you’re only coming into the store occasionally.  But when you’re a full-time employee, they HAVE to pay half of your FICA, which is social security.  It sounds pretty fishy, and there may well be even more that I’m unaware of.  Just the insurance thing alone is bad enough.  And to imagine having to pay even more estimated tax than I already am — I’m scared I won’t be able to handle it.  The typing lady warned me about that anyway.

So anyway, I’m supposed to meet with Jane on Monday to see what her wonderful offer is. Watch her say something like a $500 raise — I’ll spit in her horsey face.  I am prepared to accept $20M, because that’s matching the typing offer (not counting benefits, taxes etc.) — but if she says $19M I will be hard pressed.  I guess, with the benefits & taxes, that I would just have to take whatever raise I can get for now.  (See other side of this page for how I feel right now!)

And another thing is, the <name withheld> thing.  You can’t just fire somebody without telling them what they’re doing wrong, or not doing, and give them a chance to shape up or ship out.  Well, what we need for him to be doing is figuring up estimates, among other things, so Ginny asked me to try and show him how to do this. I got all idealistic and, after talking to him, figured that nobody had actually sat with him and taught him how to do this stuff. I thought he was kinda getting fucked over just because he’s older and slower and nobody likes him ’cause he’s nurdy and does nothing.  So I decided I was gonna damn well teach him how to do it.  When I first tried, he’d just gotten "the talk" from Ginny, and was way too upset and frazzled from worry to absorb anything I said. But today I sat with him for about an hour, and I’d made up charts and step-by-step instructions on how to do this.  We did a theoretical estimate together, and he understood it perfectly, I think.  And hopefully he can follow written instructions well enough to do it on his own.  Next week I’ll show him some more stuff, and only time will tell if he’ll be able to actually help me out or not.  I was thinking — "he’s learning this! He can do this if he wants." But talking to Ginny is such a downer.  She says he even screws up phone messages; he can’t even do basic things like that, or even type a memo without bringing it back with mistakes and typos.  And she says three different people he’s worked for have all said the same thing. I don’t know — he’s smart but he’s stupid. At least I’m trying, and if he screws up it won’t be my fault.  He has to improve by the end of August or he’ll be fired.