It was SO extremely hard for me to wake up today. Well, not so much as wake up- but to physically GET up and going. I immediately wanted to scream when I realized that I had to be to work in a few short hours. I debated calling in numerous times, but I always chicken out when it comes down to it. So, there I went – red bull in hand to start what I was sure was going to be another shit day in the same shit situation. I knew I had a doctor’s appointment for my ribs – a check up so to speak – at 1:30, so I figured well, at the very least, I’ll get to have an extended lunch. Upon my arrival at the doctor’s office, I was told that not only do I still have the cracked rib, but I also mysteriously inherited some pulled muscles. When Dr. Barton asked how it happened, I simply lied and said I wasn’t sure. But the truth of the matter is that I knew exactly how it happened. By working topstock, lifting more than his ‘3 lb requirement’, and the fact that my store manager had me out in the wet weather lifting a stop sign out of the ground. I didn’t tell him this, because I was afraid he would tell me I couldn’t go back to work. But good ol’ Doctor B. is no fool. Either that, or I am a God awful liar. Because unfortunately, it didn’t work out that way anyway. He told me that since I can’t listen to his instructions while I’m at work, that I have to stay home to heal up. He said, ‘I’ll see you back at the end of the week to check up on how you’re coming along’.
Well, fuck. Immediate panic attack. I can’t work? EXACTLY what I was trying to avoid. Not that I’m worried about paying my bills, that I can handle even with taking a few days off. It’s my store manager I’m worried about. I mean, she already dislikes me. I already had to call off 3 days because I had the flu. Take that and mix it in with the fact that I went to HR about how she treats not only me, but most of the associates in the store- and I might as well hand over my badge and file for unemployment. I’m already being scrutinized and criticized, under the magnifying glass so to speak. This will just have her take that magnifying glass and hold it in just the right spot under the sun to end this so-called career I have. I wish that I didn’t have a conscious. Or that I was like any other normal person in the store and just not give a shit. But I don’t want to be someone that my management team can’t depend on. I don’t want to give someone who already dislikes me a reason to actually hate me. But more importantly, I’m afraid of the repercussions if I didn’t go back to work. I know that legally, she can’t touch me. It’s a medical LOA for Christ’s sake! But I’ve seen her in action, and trust me. When she doesn’t want someone in a position, or in the store – period, they’re gone pecan. Adios Amigo! Done. I mean, honestly, what choice do I really even have? I just have to suck it up. Keep moving.
On my way home though, I was talking to my immediate supervisor turned good friend, and she told me that maybe I, and I quote “Need to get away for a little bit.” Because apparently, “Everyone knows you hate your job”. This shocked me. I was taken aback. I read it a few times before responding. My thought process was all over the place, because for starters, I don’t HATE my job. Not even a little bit. I dislike a few of the upper management, sure. They make going to work completely unbearable at times. But my actual job? I don’t hate it. However I didn’t notice that my dislike and annoyance of some of the people was so…… visible. It made me feel bad, even worse – it actually made me feel guilty. I’m still a member of management. I know how it feels when all of your management team is unhappy and just doesn’t care. It makes you as an hourly associate not care. Because if your boss doesn’t, why should you? So not only do I feel like I can’t take any time off to heal, I feel like I have to go into work and do a complete outlook makeover. This is just so stressful. And at the end of the day I can’t help but wonder that since I’m not a religious person, where in the actual fuck do I get my moral compass?