Archive | May, 2012

Poor Self-Management

8 May

In regards to my life lately, Einstein’s famous quote about insanity comes to mind. Ever since graduating college I have been working my ass off and seeing very little, if anything for my hard work, blood, sweat and tears. I’ve certainly learned things throughout all of my experiences, which is invaluable, but if I were to be able to put a price on the efforts I’ve invested, it would be something like 108o87987x more than what I actually have in my bank account as I write this. That shit sucks. ‘Scuse my French. Then today, I stumbled upon this blog my bf was reading a few weeks ago. I found it ironically, when I was typing in the url for my company’s website to view my schedule. Here is the blog:

It really astounds me looking back, on all the ways I’ve whored myself out for money, basically. For instance, when I was in college, I thought I’d save myself some money from room and board, and got this nanny job wherein I was not paid, but given a tiny ass little room with a bathroom that was right next to the family’s kitchen table (awkward…). In exchange for not paying for food/shelter that summer and part of a fall semester, I was to take care of 4 children ranging from twin infants to three years, free of charge, and doing daily chores, and cleaning the ENTIRE house (we’re talking polishing the hard wood floors) and driving the kids to preschool, etc etc for a stay-at-home mom who became fond of calling me “Cinderella” behind my back. (Kids talk, lady.) It was shit, and I have nothing to show for it. Sure I may have saved myself some money from that semester, but was it worth failing the only class I have ever in my life failed while also only taking the minimum 12 hour course load? Um, No. And what I can take away from it is that you should never put yourself in a place where your job description is not in writing and left to your employer to decide, especially when you are trading services for something other than money. But hell, I’d never do it again anyway. Then there was the several times when I would go to the plasma center and literally have precious bodily fluids drained from my body for something like 20 bucks a pop. I am not making this shit up, did you even know that was legal in places other than Chinatown?

I have also worked as a waitress and made a living by it for 3 years, and that my dear readers, has got to be one of the most insane employment arrangements ever known to mankind. Let me count the ways. You’re paid less than minimum wage ($2.13 and most of that is gone after taxes) to run around like a chicken with your head cut off being nice to people, some of whom had no intention of compensating you for your services from the moment they sat down, oh and don’t forget, you get to pay your busser and your bartender at the end of the night too, whether or not your entire section was filled with tee-totalers and you cleaned your tables off your own damn self. I’m not relaying this to be a bitter Betty, I’m just saying. This girl has been working too damn hard to sell herself short anymore. I could go on and on (my list of part time jobs is something like 27 by now) and still, nothing to show for it. I don’t piss all my money away either, mind you. It pays the bills, and if there’s not enough, pb&j for me. Oh, I have some debt, a few credit cards here and there (my foolish thinking that I could use them to get ahead, ha!) but I’m not a shopaholic or spendthrift. I’m notorious for wearing the same thing everyday on my day off, jeans and a t-shirt since ‘1999, baby. Ugh.

About a year after I got a kick-ass apartment from being nothing less than awesome at working like a dog, I got fed up and tired of the whole rigamarole, and sold my car, everything in my apartment and bought a ticket to South America. I spent about 3 weeks there before my money dwindled away and I had to return to the states, and move back in with my parents, seemingly defeated. Got another round of shit jobs (well two were same ol’ same ol’, the one where I was a paid nanny for an awesome family was the best) and then put myself through school again, this time for Esthetics. I am now a licensed Esthetician, and have procured what I had initally thought to be a potentially lucrative position with a high-end day spa in the area. Turns out, I am hauling my poor car 45 minutes away from home, only to show up to 2 or 3 appointments, if I’m lucky. I think life is trying to tell me something. Like, you still have not got the picture? Even if I have to start a lemonade stand, it would probably be more profitable than what I’m doing right now. All this to say, I am taking the damn hint. Work my ass off for myself this time around. I just can’t afford not to.