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This entry has been a long time coming. For a little over a year now, I've worked at Delta Retirement Center with Mya. See, that's how I moved up here. As I recall, I never really explained that clearly here. Perhaps I did. Oh well. They needed to hire another server, and someone over 21 would be useful for them for some semi-legal reasons, so Mya suggested me. I was informed that the job was mine, and I'd even be moved up to cooking soon after I got here.
Well, it's been a year. The closest I've come to cooking is mixing up ranch salad dressing. That's not so bad though. I don't mind just serving and doing salads on the weekends. It's the lack of respect. Kitchen workers are treated like shit all around. We're expected to do nearly everything, and receive no recognition for it. As if it's not bad enough that you've got caregivers and management looking down on you, the lunch and dinner crews nearly hate one another. A select few of us are on both crews, so we're just never quite satisfied.
Personally, I just feel like I deserve a lot more. Not just money. Although it really would help. There are two shifts per day. I get three shifts off per week, on average. Lately, I've been really blessed, and have gotten two full days off each week. This week, I've lost both of my days off because people have called in sick, and I've been needed. This isn't so bad, but it can get horrible after a while. See, I've been there every day since last Wednesday. I'm working through to Sunday this week. I think I might not have a day off next week either. I once worked 37 days in a row because of this. I was never rewarded or apologized to in any way. I did get "employee of the month" in January, a few months after a girl who volunteers a couple afternoons a month got it. Seriously. Ever see that Simpsons episode about the inanimate carbon rod?
A good friend of mine who works there is quitting soon. He's one of the very few people there that I can regularly relate to, so it's kind of sad to see him go. But at the same time, I have to admit, I'm happy for him. Happy, and envious. Anyway, he makes his own wine, so sometime in the near future, he and I are going to drink ourselves into a stupor to celebrate his freedom. It's gonna be great.
I hate to write something just to complain, but I had to get some of that out. Now American Idol is on, so I'm going to stop writing before my rage builds even more. Ta.
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