I'm an hourly employee, not salaried. I punch a time clock.
Yesterday I punched out for the day, had my purse and gym bag slung over my shoulder and was walking out of the office. A coworker stopped me. "Can I ask you a quick question?" "I'm off the clock, now," I replied, heading toward the hallway. "Ok, I'll walk with you." And she did. And she asked me a work-related question as I headed toward the ladies room to change for the gym. She stopped short of walking into the ladies room with me. Her question was one that almost anyone else (still on the clock) could have answered. I found this rude and inconsiderate of my time. I had told her quite clearly that I was off the clock. When I punch out for the day, my head is instantly not in the work game anymore. I was in me mode. It was MY time. Her question, my answer, took maybe 30 seconds. No big deal, right? Wrong. Those 30 seconds were unpaid. Those 30 seconds, added to the current time I had put in for the day, might have rounded my work-time up to the next quarter hour, which might have been another $6 in pay. It's not a lot to some people. But it's something to me. It might pay for another 2 gallons of gas. And I look at it this way: If I'd been at home, she wouldn't have called to ask me the question (God, I hope she doesn't resort to that!) because she knows I'm OFF WORK. Besides, it was technically illegal for me to "work off the clock" to answer her question. I once went head-to-head with the director of our department at a big major retail headquarters where I worked when he tried to tell our entire department we had to all come in to work 15 minutes early for a meeting, without overtime pay. I told him this was illegal. He was dismissive, I went to employee relations. We got paid 15 minutes of overtime. He was livid, he yelled at me during a team meeting. I cried. I was right. He was wrong. We devote a huge portion of our lives to work. Some of us may love our jobs and are happy to work off the clock. I don't hate my job. But I value my time off work. That's my time. Even the 30 seconds it takes to walk down a hallway. I don't work for free and that's the bottom line.
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I've had dozens of jobs and even more managers, most of them were mediocre, at best. Sadly, I've had very few good managers. I've worked for many bad managers and two were pure Machiavellian.
From my experience and observations, here are some bad manager traits:
There are plenty more poor manager traits and usually mediocre managers possess only a few of these. the really crappy managers have several of the above traits. Really evil managers are usually bullies. Not only do they embrace the bad traits above, but they go out of their way to make their employees' lives pure hell. I realize I'm very lucky.
I have my day job, where I've worked for over 3-1/2 years. A record for me. I'm lucky because it's nowhere near being the toxic environment of my previous job. I'm fortunate the commute isn't worse. About 25 minutes in the morning and 40 minutes home. I work on the outskirts of Minneapolis, where there's a fantastic view, a park and the Mississippi River nearby. My coworkers and managers are pleasant, mostly happy and sometimes we have fun at work. I have health insurance, my pay is good and we get bonuses, perks, happy hours and occasional catered lunches. I'm lucky. But I'm tired. Some days the commute is longer. There's weather, an accident or some unexplained circumstances that slows us to a halt. There are crazy drivers - "Minnesota Nice" isn't allowed in some people's vehicles, apparently. There are work politics, cliques, favoritism, questionable practices and an IT infrastructure that is always five steps behind. I still have thirteen years before I can consider retiring. But, do you see that picture above? It was taken last summer. It's a view I want to see more than one week of the year. How do I get there? I first met my friend, Jade, when I began working as a copywriter at a local company that managed promotions, coupons and rebate programs. Jade was an account executive, tasked with seeking out new customers. I accompanied her and my new manager, the director of marketing, to a site visit at a client's manufacturing plant. I could tell Jade was different than any coworker I've had before, not just because she had bright magenta hair and multiple piercings in her ear. She had a positive energy and was effervescent. She did not seem to possess any shyness, a trait I'm plagued with. When it soon became evident my new place of employment was a toxic environment where the owner/manager would go from being your best friend to a cruel, micromanaging dictator from one day to the next. There was often a dark pall permeating the offices. Whispers of discontent, gossip, bitterness were prevalent. But there was Jade, who not only made lemonade from lemons, but spiked it with rum. She lit up a room with her presence and her laughter eased the tension and made each day fun. There were so many times that I felt trapped in that job. I grew to hate it more every day and was always scared to make a mistake and draw the attention and wrath of the manager. Jade seemed to shake things off, and she spread cheer and showered those of us she liked with food, treats and funny gifts. She once bought me a superhero cape that read "Sooper Copiwrighter" as a joke. Jade was always a glowing warm light in the darkness of a terrible workplace. Then Jade left and I was stuck without a friend, without her laughter, without hope. For six months. I applied for dozens of jobs and interviewed for a handful. There seemed no way out. Always, Jade promised, "I will get you out of there." But my doubt grew. She was busy learning the ropes of her new job and raising her family. She'd forget me. But she didn't forget. A position opened at Jade's new company. She forwarded the job description, recommended me to the hiring manager and gave me tips for what to say during the interview. I was hired. Jade saved me from one of the worst companies I've ever worked. Though Jade moved on to another company, I still have the cape and my friendship with her. I work full time. It's my day job and when I'm not working, like everyone else, I must tend to everyday matters - laundry, grocery shopping, paying bills, making meals and so on.
My second job is writing. I squeeze that in whenever I can and that time is certainly at a premium. My third job is making sure other people do their jobs. No, I don't go up to people working their positions and supervise. But I do have to make sure that people aren't doing their jobs incorrectly in a way that will affect me or my family. This past Sunday we went to the grocery store and I monitored the items being scanned by the cashier. I caught her ringing up two bags of softener salt as an incorrect brand, which would have cost us $1.35 more per bag. She rang up a white onion as jicama, which costs .09 cents more. And after we unloaded our groceries into the car, we realized she rang up one pineapple as 11. ELEVEN. At $2.98 a pineapple. I had to go back into the store, spend 15 minutes waiting at guest services and then I had to show the rep behind the desk how to scan the barcode on the receipt on my phone to process my credit. The only payment I receive for this third job is saving us all the money we'd have lost on that single grocery trip. If I hadn't done this third job, we would have lost $32.50. I shudder to think how much money we've lost over the years we didn't take time to monitor our purchases as they were being scanned. Or when we didn't do a quick count of our change to make sure it was correct. People make mistakes, it's true. I know, I've made plenty of my own. But it's disheartening to know that these mistakes sometimes cost others money and time. |
About Sally FarleyI'm a typical, hardworking Midwesterner, enduring (and sometimes participating in) the passive-aggressive complexities of life in Minnesota. ArchivesLinksAsk a Manager
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