Grow up (or say they said)! Do you dread Mondays? Are you mistreated and undervalued? Is your paycheck going to cause a lonesome cry in your car, regrets of wasted time, and sluggishness in the shower prior to your morning commute? Is your mental health suffering from the comments of your boss or that 100th angry client on the line? Are you pouring yourself a stiff one just to "wind down"? If any of this sounds familiar or applicable to your daily "workflow", you may want to evaluate your choice in those 40 hours. I hate to be the one to tell you this but... your yesterday is one of many and like the yesterday before, these days are not coming back. Is that 40 hours really how you want to spend the days leading up to your warm embrace with your silky casket? Time flies when you are not having fun.
When I was 17 years old my first job within the work force was at a law firm. I was hired as an intern through a program through my school due to being on honor roll. I made $7 an hour. I accompanied the head attorney to court, assisted with immigration paperwork, transcribed documents, handled the filing of cases within the firms' archives, and was the right wing of the office. The firm appreciated my work so much they hired me the following summer, though I was aware it was only a temporary position. To follow this employment, I ran a gift shop. I was handed the keys of the gift store to manage by the owner. At the time, I was excited for such a large responsibility, though being 17 going on 18 years old, I had no concept of life. I spent time partying rather than focusing on other areas of life like most of us within our "young and dumb era". I was wrapped up in a boy (emphasis on boy). We can call him Manuel. Manuel was not a match. We will touch on him later in another blog post-he can take a back seat on the bus for now, but you get the point. The store closed down due to slow winter months; I then got a job at Victoria's Secret. I folded panties for $8 an hour "living the dream", at work with espresso filled eyes and fuzzy $50 socks. I got the first pick of all new bras in varying lines released and worked in PINK. I was that jerk who tried to sign you up for credit cards as soon as you crossed the starting line that is the front door of the sales floor. Again, I was in my era of lack of care. I would come to work hungover and drunk from the night before. We can touch on it later, though at this time, I was homeless, living out of my car, and couch hopping. I used my gym membership to upkeep my hygiene for work. Victoria's Secret worked me through the holidays, including black Friday. Have you ever seen grown middle aged women fight over a pair of slippers? I have. It was the evening of "gratitude" when I stood, ready in position, and like Jumanji the elephants stampeded around me. The ground did not shake, though it felt it might. It is then that I began my journey in comprehending the societal structures in the eyes of naivety.
You think since I surfed the black Friday and Holiday wave, I would be valued right? No. I was taken off the schedule right after the holidays and marked as a seasonal employee with no notice. A glorious silent fire. Drugs came next. No, not the drugs your brain ran to. I got my certification as a pharmacy technician through the state of New Jersey. I learned to read scripts, perform duties that a pharmacist does, issue and count meds, control and regulate controlled substances, assist sickly life forms we call patients in getting on the upward with their health, cleaning the store, and occasionally delivering meds. Do you know how much of the population is on Xanax and ADHD meds? While my boss had a sense of humor and worked with me in regard to my schedule in ties with my schooling, I would work 8 hours and was only allowed to take a 15-minute standing lunch. I worked here for almost 3 years. For 3 years I did not see much of daylight as I worked sunup to sundown. Was it worth it? Absolutely not. I did meet my best friend of a lifetime on the bright side, and she has been an angel in disguise. My time here at the pharmacy came to an abrupt halt when I asked for a raise from 8 plus dollars an hour. "I can give you ten cents" left my bosses lips. After 3 years, I realized I deserved better. I quit and went and got a job at a busy Italian restaurant. I still miss that job, but it was not my forever. I used to make about $300 in a four-hour shift. This was my first serving job. I will never forget what it felt like to carry in a tray of 9 chocolate milks to a table only for a child to rip the tray away and like a trip tp chocolate milk rapids, of course the lady in white who was to foot the bill served as a sponge. You best believe she asked for that manager.
I moved on from this job after a cataclysmic series of events and here we circle back to Manuel, but we will keep it short and sweet. Young Ashley did not conceptualize what a healthy love was due to coming from such a chaotic background and in turn, young Ashley made an extremely poor choice that cost her many years of her life sharing time with someone who deserved no time at all. Young Ashley cheered Manuel on within his journey within the Army, derailing any focus she had on her dreams. Young Ashley packed up and moved to Fort Riley, Kansas where he got stationed. A story for another day, though I really put the nail in the coffin for my abilities when I said "I do" in the court room. Down the drain my dreams went. But we were married, and had a house, right? The "American Dream."
To follow, I obtained serving jobs, customer service jobs, and at one point, I worked for a mortgage company. At the mortgage company, I made $10 an hour to break down escrow shortages, be screamed at over the rise of taxes from homeowners, and get called every name and obscenity in the book over hardships that were not mine. I still let out a chuckle over recalling the woman who asked for my last name, in which I refused to provide only for her to tell me " I would not either if I was as stupid as you were".
I worked at a car dealership. I worked at restaurants. Money was not cutting it. No matter where I gave 150%.
I got a job at a bar. The bar paid well, though it came with sacrifice, late nights, and questionable people. We can leave the rest for imagination. The bar scene taught me inner strength, morals, and a different viewpoint like no other job has. We had new management and management liked to belittle the women working there. That was until young Ashley cornered him and stood up for everyone. I look back as I sit in my apartment sipping tea and think "She was ferocious in the wrong areas."
I worked at the bar for about 4 years. Those were some very dark times and Manuel and I got divorced. He went on his way as did I. As I tried to piece my life together, I realized I was at a dead end everywhere I turned. Feeling hopeless and wanting a better life, I joined the Navy. I shipped out ready to start my new life and make something of myself. Yet again, a story for another day but I snapped my tibia on the 7th week of training, and got shipped home like a FedEx package, only I was in transit to nowhere and I am not sure street.
After an immense amount of contemplation, I moved to Florida. Before I moved here, I got a job as a roofer. Yes, a roofer. I made $15 an hour to climb the roof of 100-degree buildings to lace my boots and man up with sweaty armpits with the rest of my crew. It was hard work, though I loved it. At the time, our hours kept getting cut because of the weather. I had just put $5000 down on my apartment and rent was due. Those checks were not enough. I was on a one-way road driving the struggle bus. I was the only passenger on the bus.
In the nick of time, I landed a job for $45,000 a year working for a suit company. It was the most money I made in my lifetime from a salary job. I could survive. I would no longer have to make a sandwich last a few days. I would no longer live in fear. I could enjoy life the way it was meant to be enjoyed. For a period of time, that job was everything I could have prayed for and more. I loved my job. I managed all internal and external communications for our Showrooms statewide, handled all google and yelp reviews, took over 50 calls a day providing verbiage on suits and our pricing, assisted with scheduling, interviewed, hired, and trained new hires, and maintained our schedule, The CEO and upper management valued my performance so much I was given a $7000 raise. All was smooth sailing until there was a management change. We all know that feeling. The new manager was neurotic, disrespectful to all employees, vindictive, and found joy in making the employees miserable. To follow a similar new employee was hired to then take place above me. In the end, this did not transpire in anything other than an ugly, fiery, burn all my hard work to the ground sort of way. I went from being valued at work to having panic attacks at work, insomnia from the stress work caused, withdrawing from life, and my favorite of all: being yelled at within the workplace. No job, $55,000 a year or $100,000 (unless you are in the military) allows for disgusting treatment. You are human being, as are they and if management has mental issues of their own, there is no reasoning for the placement of their issues on you. My new managers were unknowing of how to regulate their emotions and I reached my breaking point. After two years of working with the company, putting my job first, arriving to work early, giving my all to what I thought was the best job I ever had, came to a car crashing stop. During what was my final meeting, my former boss found it acceptable to raise their voice at me when I asked a question. I took it home and thought about it, only to go in the next day and call her into my office. When the door clicked, the ferocious side of me I thought had stepped away came to the surface. Shock showered her face as I was never seen in an angry light. I am sorry's left the lips of my venomous colleagues. I quit the next day.
2 years. Gone. Again. When I quit, I had no plan, though what I did know is that my life is too short to allow anyone to speak to me in a way any lesser than respectful and let a job take from me. I needed money so I got a job at an emergency vet. I was 911 for dogs and cats. The saddest call I got involved the caller informing me their dog was in the pool and not breathing. I saw first-hand euthanasia. For $15 an hour, I navigated through the treachery of loss and empathy towards the love of pets. That was until I got the message that changed the course of where my life was headed. I was offered a position working as a project coordinator in line with my previous experience. I have never felt so at peace in a work place the way I do now. I am valued, respected, heard, offered proper training, and the company culture is unbeatable. I perform system administration, training Webinars company wide, report bugs within our system for fix, perform IT adject work, build websites, strategize large task loads for completion, and much more. I sit with my Spotify whilst making the gears go round. No degradation, no irate emotion filled people who should not be in the professional field, and no neuroticism. How did a law firm lead me here? How did mortgage lead me here? It didn't. Knowing I deserved better at every turn did. Knowing I wanted better did. What was a jump, a change, and leap of faith lead me here. Don't settle because behind the closed door of settling could be your removal of the chains that claw into your back causing unhappiness. Change. Rearrange. Keep searching. I want to close with asking you, are you happy where you are? If you aren't, are you willing to be ferocious? If you aren't you don't want it bad enough.
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