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by Zseni 03/17/2007, 1:05pm PDT |
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After a while, I began to notice that while I was working overtime and taking half-hour lunches to keep up with all the work - Crazy Boss would not permit me to completely skip lunch no matter how much stuff there was to do - I wasn't getting paid for overtime, and the timecards had been altered to show full hour-long lunches.
"Oh," said Tawny The Accounting Bimbo, when I spoke with her about it. "Crazy Viet Boss told me to always mark you down for a full hour lunch no matter what the time card says. I don't even check your in-out times for lunch anymore! *giggle*"
And the overtime?
"Well, if Crazy Viet Boss doesn't initial the time card for each overtime thingy, we can't pay you for it."
MEETING ROOM, ME AND CRAZY VIET BOSS:
"CVB, what the fuck is going on with my timecard?"
"I don't know what you are talking about, Miss Zseni."
"Overtime? Lunches? What's the deal with the hour lunch thing?"
"Oh," she giggled. "Yes, I must sign off on your overtime every day. Please leave your timecard on my desk in the morning. Also remember to send me an email telling me why you were working overtime that night before you leave."
That would have been nice to know three or four weeks ago. And the lunches?
"You can't take only a half hour lunch. We could get in trouble with the State."
Just thinking about that meeting makes me nauseous. So here's a happy story about my new job: there are no timecards. Money is the only thing the company has enough of, so I can have as much of it as I like. As soon as I asked my boss to let me come in earlier, he said yes, and set me up to work ALONE WITH ALL THIS HIGHLY SENSITIVE DATA AND NOBODY ELSE IN THE BUILDING. Now I leave work early enough to... go back to school!!!111!!! and get a master's.
My skin has cleared up and I've started sleeping again. As with New Father Toot, I expect that my newfound satisfaction with life will render me even more uninteresting than usual. But I don't give a shit! |
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