Why yes, I am high maintenance, at least these days. Sometimes.

I had a meltdown of sorts at work.  Not a  major meltdown. I just got upset at what I saw as a fundamentally unfair situation.

I had agreed to work eight hours.  Working eight hours ended up causing me problems, and a missed appointment fee to the tune of fifty bucks.  It was not my appointment, either, but somehow it was my responsibility.

I’m the mom, you see.  My responsibility, my fault, even though the individual in question had set up the appointment by himself and not told me when it was.  So I was stressed and upset going into the shift.

There were not enough computers to go around, so I and a lot of other people were reduced to using pre-paid cell phones to make calls.  The noise was immense, but I coped, and did the best I could.  Remember the esprit d’corps I mentioned?  I really do like the people I work with, even in the midst of noise and chaos.

Two hours before the end of shift, one of the supervisors took away all of the cell phones to give to volunteers who were coming in.  After much deliberation by the bosses, those of us using the phones were offered two options: continue to work using our personal cell phones, or go home early.  We would not be paid for the hour we went home early, of course, but they were going to give us the gas cards that they had promised people who agreed to work eight hours.

I had no option.  I do not have unlimited cell phone minutes. (I also did not want the people we were calling to have my personal cell number, but that is another matter.)  I was in a position where I was going to be forced to go home.  When I suggested that people who were on computers might be asked if they wanted to go home early, that was rejected as “opening up an entire new can of worms.”  I was clearly unhappy.  I did not yell, but I did complain.  I suppose if you pushed the point I committed insubordination.

The youngest of the bosses found a young woman who agreed to go home early.  And as it turned out, a number of the volunteers left after a short while, so people could go back to using phones.

I apologized to one of the bosses, but in my heart I am not sure I meant it.  It seems to me that you need to make better plans for people to be able to work when you tell them to show up.  This is not the first time this has happened: a few days ago I punted something that mattered to me, and which may have longer term implications,  so that I could work eight hours, only to be told when I arrived that plans had changed and everyone would only work five.  Had I known in advance, I could have shifted the time I work so as to take better care of my personal obligations.

I am pretty sure I have torched any chance of getting any sort of recommendation from any of these people.  Which is okay: the last job I would want to move into at this point is telemarketing. As I mentioned in my last post, I am resoundingly mediocre at this.

I just regret letting my emotions get the better of me.  It was unprofessional.  I know better.  I almost always behave better.

It is towards the end of a long year.  Having a job, for even a few weeks, was a bright spot, and now it is almost over.  This saddens me immensely.

Pain.  Loss.  Endings.

I need joy and beginnings.  And soon.

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