Ouch!
Tue., April 25, 12:37 PM
Just soothing myself a little. Even if I did it to myself, it still hurts.
If you’ve been reading me for a while, you know all about Bosslawyer and his inadequate computer, and you’ve heard me complaining about the dead-end job. You also know how much better I felt after I notified the agency that I wanted to retire.
Even though it’s not necessary for a “temp,” I gave notice: I would work two or three weeks more so that they could find him a suitable replacement. In this situation, it was the right thing to do.
Bosslawyer was absolutely flabbergasted when he learned I was leaving. “You never mentioned that you wanted to retire.” No? I had been constantly alluding to my deteriorating eyesight and my lack of energy and wishing I didn’t have to work. He didn’t want to hear it, so he didn’t.
He found a nice lady who is a competent secretary but who has no legal experience or background. It’s going to take her more hours each week to do my job. Well, I consoled him, he should at least save something by paying a lower fee. Oh, no, she’s coming in at my level!
While I was lifting my chin off the floor – no poker face, I – he added “you were underpaid.”
He has absolutely no idea – because he doesn’t want to know, of course – how that hurt. Not because I was the best secretary/office manager he ever had. I’m a professional, and that’s what I do. But I accepted reduced hours when he was short of money. I worked with inadequate equipment because I didn’t think he could afford better. I worked without an increase for three years, before I was raised to what turns out to be underpayment. I even shopped for the best deals in office supplies for him and paid for them with my credit card, charging him only after I received the bill. Believe me, the nicest pen – and it is a lovely writing instrument – doesn’t make up for it.
Before the new lady was hired, we talked about my coming back as a consultant if necessary. I know that a crunch time is coming…but somehow I don’t think I’ll be available.
Lots of us talk about going the extra mile, doing “the right thing,” just being nice. I keep on doing it, and it keeps coming around to bite me in the backside. Well, at least there’s one place I don’t have to do it any more.
