Back
I've spent a large portion of the past week flat on my back with various pain inhibitors and muscle relaxants coursing through my system. The only 'up time' I've had was going to a couple of freelance gigs, and a visit to a chiropractor.
I felt kind of bad going to the jobs when I was not going to work, but I rationalized thusly: The freelance jobs lasted on average three hours compared to roughly ten hours (including travel time) for my regular job. I have something like two month's worth of sick leave accrued, since just about the only time I've taken off in the past five years was about two weeks in 2003 when I had appendicitis.
Plus, I desperately need the money.
So I was all set to go back to work today. The back feels somewhat better, thanks to the combination of immobility, drugs and "Doctor Greg," who pushed and prodded and cracked and mumbled over me on Friday.
I've always been a bit of a fence-sitter regarding the healing powers of Chiropractors, Acupuncturists, Homeopaths, and the like. But, I have seen people seem to improve ther health by going to them.
And today, I feel well enough to go back to work.
And the kids are sick.
Fuck.
STBEW is moving this week, so they can't stay with her. This means I've got to keep them home.
And since I've been out for an extended period, I'm going to have to prove that I was sick. Doesn't matter that I don't regularly take sick time. Corporate policy, and all.
I'm quite tired of Corporate Policy. A big factor in my bac back was my slipping on the ice in the parking lot of work--an incident that I didn't report because the procedure for an injury is to immediately notify your manager, who will come to the scene, asses the damage, and escort you to the nearest clinic where they will watch me pee in a cup.
Because maybe I'm on drugs.
This is for slipping on black ice in an unlit parking lot at 6:15 on a Wednesday.
I'm so tired of working for companies who, rather than try to support their workers in order to make sure they can do their best for them, instead treat their employees as criminals who have yet to be caught.
Performance reviews are a great example.
In my company, The review scale is set on a one to five scale--five being the best, and one being you're fired. Thing is, unless I've discovered a way to make the company an additional billion dollars a year, PLUS rescue the CEO's daughter from kidnapping PLUS find a way to reverse the aging process, I can't get a five. To get a four is nearly as difficult. The best I can get--no matter how well I do my job, is a three. Three-point-five tops.
Two-fifths of the performance scale--a full 40% of my possible performance review--is effectively impossible to attain.
I need a new job.
Yeharr
I felt kind of bad going to the jobs when I was not going to work, but I rationalized thusly: The freelance jobs lasted on average three hours compared to roughly ten hours (including travel time) for my regular job. I have something like two month's worth of sick leave accrued, since just about the only time I've taken off in the past five years was about two weeks in 2003 when I had appendicitis.
Plus, I desperately need the money.
So I was all set to go back to work today. The back feels somewhat better, thanks to the combination of immobility, drugs and "Doctor Greg," who pushed and prodded and cracked and mumbled over me on Friday.
I've always been a bit of a fence-sitter regarding the healing powers of Chiropractors, Acupuncturists, Homeopaths, and the like. But, I have seen people seem to improve ther health by going to them.
And today, I feel well enough to go back to work.
And the kids are sick.
Fuck.
STBEW is moving this week, so they can't stay with her. This means I've got to keep them home.
And since I've been out for an extended period, I'm going to have to prove that I was sick. Doesn't matter that I don't regularly take sick time. Corporate policy, and all.
I'm quite tired of Corporate Policy. A big factor in my bac back was my slipping on the ice in the parking lot of work--an incident that I didn't report because the procedure for an injury is to immediately notify your manager, who will come to the scene, asses the damage, and escort you to the nearest clinic where they will watch me pee in a cup.
Because maybe I'm on drugs.
This is for slipping on black ice in an unlit parking lot at 6:15 on a Wednesday.
I'm so tired of working for companies who, rather than try to support their workers in order to make sure they can do their best for them, instead treat their employees as criminals who have yet to be caught.
Performance reviews are a great example.
In my company, The review scale is set on a one to five scale--five being the best, and one being you're fired. Thing is, unless I've discovered a way to make the company an additional billion dollars a year, PLUS rescue the CEO's daughter from kidnapping PLUS find a way to reverse the aging process, I can't get a five. To get a four is nearly as difficult. The best I can get--no matter how well I do my job, is a three. Three-point-five tops.
Two-fifths of the performance scale--a full 40% of my possible performance review--is effectively impossible to attain.
I need a new job.
Yeharr
posted by Balloon Pirate at 7:18 AM
3 Comments:
Yep, you do.
Good luck finding one.
you know that they are praying something turns up in that cup so they don't have to pay workman's comp.
hope the kids feel better soon, and glad to hear that you are up and at 'em.
oh, and cupcakes are not a snack. they are dessert.
I recommend anything that requires you to write.
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