July 18, 2011
This is MY blog (Sarah's too, but for the sake of THIS post, it's MY blog), so I'm going to use it to rant and blow off some steam.
What am I ranting about? One topic: a job.
I wont subject all of you to this, so If you wish to read, follow the jump link below.
I thought about where to start this rant, not at length but rather for a mere second or two, and decided it had to start at the way beginning. Immediately after high school I decided college wasn't for me. High school was too easy; I really didn't need to study for any test, I almost always felt like the teachings were extremely slow and repetitive and often found myself completely unfocused. Regardless, I rarely ever received anything lower than an A and finished high school with some absurdly high GPA. Something like a 3.7 or 3.6 if I remember correctly.
Decided school wasn't very important and after being a teenager the entire summer of 1999, I got a job at Costco in the Fall. It was a seasonal position for the Christmas season that was right around the corner. Bagged groceries (or in Costco's case: BOXED groceries in emptied cardboard packaging bottoms left over from their product), collected shopping carts, worked fucked up hours in cargo shorts and polos, and ate slices of cheese pizza 5 days a week during my lunch hour. Seasonal employment ended, I was unemployed again. Which would be the first and only time for the next 11 years.
Got a job at a private fitness and tennis facility working grave yard shifts a few months later. Worked 8pm to 4am Monday through Thursday and 12pm to 8pm Fridays. I was only 18 at the time so energy wasn't a problem for me. Eventually moved my way up to Evening Manager on Duty within 2 years. Decided it was time to go to school and get a degree but I didn't want to draw it out to a 7 year path. Put my head down and focused, finished Junior College in 2.5 years. Transferred to Long Beach State and finished my Bachelor's degree in another 2.5 years (5 total years of schooling). The entire time I never worked less than 40 hours a week at the gym. Moved up again to Director of Basketball Operations (I coordinated adult leagues) AND was promoted to Concierge Supervisor at the same time.
At this point I was used to occupying 60 hours of my week with work AND school and now that school wasn't around I decided to get a part time job. Landed the best job ever at a clothing boutique and blah blah blah worked both jobs for 2 years, 60 hours a week.
Welcome in recession: was laid off from the gym after 8.5 years of employment, salary gone. No real reason why, probably just fell out of favor of upper management since I was the only one without a family or spouse. Went on to work full time at the clothing store. Pay was ok but wasn't great. Ran the store, made moves, loved every minute of it. Second recession reminder reared it's ugly head and all of a sudden store hours were cut to a bare minimum. Time to look for another job.
Applied for over 100 jobs, got maybe 4 phone calls back. Mostly only achieved infinite spam in my email inbox because of it. Went on job interviews. Wore the chachki get ups and ties and all that uncomfortable bullshit. I remember one interview was for a "sports marketing" position, ended up being a fucking scam and wasted an entire day of my life following some dude who was brainwashed into believing door to door sales was where the money was at. Didn't have the heart to tell him all he was was a solicitor for a dude in an office that was making 400% profit off of his ass. Made my rounds on careerbuilder, monster, craiglist and just about every other spam infested job website.
Eventually took my current job after hearing, "overqualified" umpteen times. What the fuck does that mean? Oh yeah I know, it means "while you clearly possess the skills we would love to pay you for, we're trying to sucker a lesser qualified person into taking the job so we can pay them less." Got it. And here I am, employed 30 miles away from my residence, set my alarm clock at 3:30am THREE times a week, fight rush hour traffic at all hours of the day in the fucking hell hole that is Los Angeles, I'm technically a "manager" yet perform more manual labor than anyone in the entire company. I get "performance feedback" like clockwork every week to remind me that I should be doing X amount of processed boxes an hour. I sign these "performance feedback" write ups while I'm still dripping in sweat from my fucking 4 hours straight of manual labor (since I don't take breaks, as that would take away from my expected production). Not that it would make that big a difference, but the fucking company can't even shell out a few extra fucking dollars for a working air conditioning unit to satisfy my sweaty ass either.
So here I am; completely miserable, semi depressive, all out of energy, lack of sleep, juggling a shit load of stress at home with a brother that has cancer, recently separated parents, a girlfriend that lives 100 miles away, a dog with arthritis that cries whenever I pick her up, money in my savings account that I don't dare spend to have any fun at all because I'm 99% sure I'm going to get fired any day now, and a job market that's about as vast as a nun's vagina. No one's hiring and none of my friends reply when I ask them if their company is hiring or looking for help. Why would they? I only did everything I could whenever any of my friends needed a job, whether it was at the gym or the store.
Fuck me. I debate daily whether I should just quit my job and be able to smile for a few seconds while I sit alone in my room in front of this fucking computer looking for a new job everyday. At the end of the day, no one really cares.