78¢

I want to be clear. 

1. If I could find another job, I would.
2. I need to work.
3. It's more about self-esteem than money, although the money is important.

Writing a blog is taking a risk. I know I'll be judged and of course I am. It comes out in many ways.

A family member getting angry about something I once wrote; she no longer reads my blog and that hurts me.

Someone telling me I complain too much about my job; someone who doesn't work and hasn't in a jillion years.

Someone else saying if I have no money, why do I spend money on XYZ?

As much as I try not to write about people I care about in any way that I think would upset them, I sometimes err.

If I avoid everything that hurts or upsets me (and I do omit more than I write), my blog would feel insincere. So sometimes I am more open than perhaps I should be. 

And when I complain about my job, it is usually about the inequities and unfairness; it's not to say (although it may come off this way), poor me, I work hard and have no money. But rather, poor me, how did I end up here?

The truth is, I actually like what I do when I'm busy. I enjoy meeting new people. Helping them look good for everyday or an important event. Learning a bit about them. And working for a store that offers really great merchandise.

What I don't like is getting paid zero when it's not busy, yet still be required to work — processing other people's returns, lugging clothes all over the place, opening and closing registers, doing price adjustments, and getting little corporate support. It is a place that puts no value on the sales associate. And sometimes I feel compelled to just write about that! Even though I understand it may be tedious to read.

So with that long preamble...This week, aside from one great male customer, was horrid.

I work Friday and Saturday (and will be working again today). For these two days combined (18 hours),  I will earn $106 — that's $5.89/hour, assuming no returns (which is not a realistic assumption). 

Yesterday was particularly dreadful. I net $13 in sales— that's 78¢ for the entire day, including 9 hours on my feet with no break. (I choose to skip lunch, hoping I won't miss any big customers who might happen by). I walk over 16,000 steps, and come home utterly exhausted and with aching feet. 

I feel depleted and sad. 

Sad to feel so taken advantage of. 

Sad to feel so under-appreciated. 

Sad to be asked to do so much for a company that cares so little for its hourly workers. 

Sad to now be an hourly employee.  

Sad to not be using my advanced education and years of senior-level marketing experience.

And sad that I feel I have no other choice but to stay.

Sorry for the rant. I just had to get it out. 

And, every day's a new day. So maybe today will be better.