|Posted on June 29, 2011 at 1:59 AM|
A rant in 2 parts, this describes my "boss."
I am a writer. I gota tattoo to convince me that, even when I’m not writing, I’m still awriter. However, in lieu of selling amillion copies of my book and retiring early on a nice royalty check every fewmonths or so, I must work. So my dayjob, rather my night job, is as a cleaner. It’s nice. I get to spend a fewhours listening to my music, letting my mind wander through various story ideasand fantasies, as long as I get the place clean in the allotted time to theclient’s satisfaction. I don’t have toput my kids in daycare, and as long as my son lets me sleep in a couple ofhours (in exchange for cartoons that “don’t count as screen time, mom.”) my dayis still pretty normal. (My son is toosmart sometimes. Since when don’tcartoons count as screen time? Oh yeah,when they allow me to sleep in, or take a shower.)
My boss, we’ll call him Phil, is a nice guy. He plays basketball on the weekends. He bought a shirt from my church to helpsupport our summer program. He bought ahella-lot-a Girl Scout Cookies from my daughter. He hardly bat an eye when I asked for twodays off for my yearly camping trip, and when I had my leg surgery, hepractically told me to take all time I needed off. See, this job is off the grid. I’m helping a friend, and friends don’t takecare of you if you get hurt while helping them. So he doesn’t want me to get hurt and he nursed my aches and pains, andsurgeries. One thing Phil doesn’t haveis a head for numbers. I remembershortly after I started, when keeping track of my hours, he wrote down threeand a three quarter hours, three hours and forty-five minutes, as 3.45. He kept getting a smaller total than I didand he couldn’t grasp why. He wasconvinced I was wrong. We eventually didclear it up and he recognized three hours and forty-five minutes as 3.75.
He also has a very loose concept of time. Most of the time, I’m left to clean on myown. Fine, no problem, I get the jobdone. But on nights when he joins me, hewill call and tell me he’s on his way, and then show up an hour later. I have no idea where he’s coming from, so Ican’t really complain. In fact, I’m notcomplaining about that. What kills me,and I haven’t taken the time to explain it to him, so this isn’t a complainteither, is that on Tuesday and Friday nights, we team clean, but I still makethe same hours. Get this, I clean adaycare, we’ll call it Babes-N-Up daycare, five nights a week. On Tuesday and Friday, I also clean abank. On Wednesday, I also clean anadvertising agency. Wednesdays are notreally an issue. I get the daycarenearly done before he shows up and then I move on. My hours are slightly increased onWednesdays. However, on Tuesdays andFridays, I start at Babes-N-Up, on one end of the Freeway, then drive to theother end of the Freeway to the bank. The daycare by itself is a 3.5-hour job. The bank by itself is a 3-hour job. When we team clean, we split the hours. So the daycare becomes 1.75 and the bank 1.5for a total of 3.25, but then I add drive time, for which I'm not paid. So more gas for less pay. You’d think he’d do the bank and let me dothe daycare, but no. We split it. I tried to bring that up once, but I neverfully explained it. How can I explain itwithout sounding like I’m complaining? Idid straighten out a route last Friday. Phil decided to do the ad agency too, so he wouldn’t have to do it Saturday. No problem, the agency is just the next exitdown from the daycare. However, he wasgoing to send me from the daycare to the bank and then meet them (he had otherhelp that night) at the ad agency. Zigzag. I told him that and heagreed, so I went from the daycare to the agency to the bank, a much betterroute.
Lastly, he wields authority. He’s the boss, so I let him. However,sometimes it comes with a superiority that is unwarranted. Like when he tried to convince me that 3.45was three hours and forty-five minutes. And when he thinks my trying to tell him to split up our Tuesdays andFridays is a hesitation on the verge of complaint. Oh, and when he doesn’t let me leave notesfor the people we clean for. I’m not tospeak to them except through him. Ohwell, he’s the boss, so I let him wield authority. I like Phil, so I don’t rock the boat. I also like that Phil pays me to help himout, so I go with the flow. Phil is nota moron. He is not the reason for this blog,but he’s the reason I’m cleaning Babes-N-Up daycare, so I felt I needed toexplain him a bit before going into the mess that is the daycare. He says he will never take on another daycareever again.