Captain’s Log 6,014
Tired, face sunburned (in spite of hat and glasses), and really ready for a day off. I have been working like a machine since last Monday. Two more and I am off to Vegas for three days of fun with family and friends. Thank goodness. A girl can only take so much work fun.
My business manager went to a seminar last week and learned that it’s now illegal to have someone work seven days in a row. That doesn’t apply to me, unfortunately. Just those paid hourly. Back in the day when I was the lowliest peon on the charts at the museum, I once worked 27 days in a row. Not that I was counting or anything. And when the director told me to take a few days off, I thought those were going to be a gift. Oh no! He wanted me to take those without pay.
He was a total bastard. He would go off to Costa Rica for two weeks at a time and leave me in charge. And that meant doing his job AND my job. And since my job was the event planner that required weekends, I worked way beyond what should have been allowed. Plus, he preferred to pay me overtime than give me a day off every now and then. I will never forget the time he left me absolutely ALONE to process 100 motorcycles for a special exhibit. Bikes were coming in all day long. There was a store clerk and me. The clerk could not help at all. During all of this, the alarms started to malfunction. Since I was not on the official call list for the alarms, I couldn’t arrange for them to be shut off. So they rang like bloody hell every 20 minutes. I called him in Portland where he was vacationing for two weeks and told him I needed help. He agreed to call the alarm company and get that fixed, but he refused to get me any help with those bikes. So…… I calmed down and said in the sweetest voice I could muster….. “I understand. Completely. I understand that you don’t want to pay anyone to help me. So I hope you understand this. I am handing my keys to the clerk in the store and I am leaving. And I am never coming back. This is my letter of resignation. Effective immediately. Have a nice time on your vacation.”
There was someone in place to help me in about 30 minutes. When he got back from Portland, he gave me a raise. It was an improvement and I was moved up the food chain to the second level from the bottom. Even so, if I finished up an event at the museum at midnight, he expected me back on the job by 8:15 the next morning. He also wouldn’t let us order our own food at the Christmas party at a Chinese restaurant even though we all voted for Italian food. He ordered for us. And you could only have an alcoholic beverage if you were full-time. And there were four of us assigned to one dessert.
A vendor gave me a promotional baseball cap but the boss wouldn’t let me wear it because it might look like a bribe. When Smart Cars came in for a demo, we weren’t allowed to wear their t-shirts. Stupid shit like that. Talk about picking your battles!
So when some of my staff carry on about how awful I am as a boss, I am tempted to tell them about the good old days. But they are not interested in how far I walked to school uphill in the snow or how many days I worked without a break. They just agonize over every little slight that crosses their paths. Is it a millenial thing? I am starting to believe the whole millenial stereotype stuff. Needy, belligerent, out for self-gratification, and constantly asking for time off. I don’t have a single millenial on my staff that has more than six hours in their time-off banks. They earn the hours and use them immediately. And they don’t save a cent. It’s paycheck to paycheck.
So I face another Monday with no time off to re-charge my emotional batteries. Just two more days. I keep telling myself that. Two more days.
And yes, retirement has been discussed with my board. It’s on the horizon now. Not in the immediate future, but I plan to leave on my 65th birthday. That will give me 12 years with the museum and 8 years as the director. That has got to be a record. There were directors who lasted less than 6 months. One guy was fired by the board for purchasing a ladder without prior approval. At least my current board allows me to spend up to $5,000 on unbudgeted items, using my own discretion. If I had to call the board every time I needed a ladder or a box of colored copy paper, I would shoot myself. Larger purchases (like a new server) are discussed at board meetings. It’s common sense.
So it’s time for a shower and a smile. I have two big meetings before I go. One today and one tomorrow. One moment at a time. One moment at a time.