I must be doing something wrong.

[dragonlady7]

Tammy-Not-Her-Real-Name, the one that pitched a hissy fit and walked out on Sunday because they were going to ask her to work in the Club for a few hours... wasn't fired.
No.
She was suspended for one day.
She was told, if you walk out, that's grounds for termination, and she said fine, bye.
But she wasn't fired.

Meanwhile they've posted next week's schedule and I'm only working four days again. This week I'm working five, but the week before I worked four, and I thought it must be some sort of anomaly. But no, next week it's four for me again.

I've been working five days a week since mid-February.

They've cut my hours.


I think it's time to file a grievance with the union, hmmm? Obviously I'm doing something wrong. Coming in, on time, for every shift I'm scheduled, and making no complaints about being asked to work in the Club despite having seniority over others? Doing extra work and staying late when asked without complaint? Has gotten me nothing, except my hours cut for next week. (There are no hours in the Club. Thank God. But. There are only four days. That's not right.)
But Tammy pitches a hissy-fit and walks out on a shift, after having pissed off US Airways Inc. to an alarming degree, and she's suspended for one day, but is also never asked to work in the Club again?

Obviously I am doing something wrong. Good thing I'm working with the union rep tomorrow.

Comments

[mother2012.livejournal.com]

You're not sleeping with the right people. Yep, I'd say it's time for the unikon rep.

[tehta.livejournal.com]

You know why this happened? Because, as I have decided, today is officially a Day of Woe. Woe! I will now go eat half a pint of icecream--and good luck with the union rep. Sounds like they're just not paying attention to who's doing what.

[tehta.livejournal.com]

Also, "Tammy" is officially a name of evil in my book, because a girl of that name broke my brother's heart once. I know it's not her real name, but still.

[dragonlady7.livejournal.com]

Actually her real name is my last name, which is part of the reason why I can't bear to use it. She's just such an airhead and she's precisely why I resent the fact that my last name has been turned into a first name and is so frequently used on ditzes. Rrgh.

I, too, have hated several Tammies, hence my choice of the name.

[tehta.livejournal.com]

Hey, my best friend has your last name as a first name, and she's immensely smart and talented.

[dragonlady7.livejournal.com]

GOOD.

The only other one I knew with the same name who was cool went and got her degree and everything, and then GOT KNOCKED UP AND MARRIED A FARMER. I was so disgusted. She lives in a trailer now. I don't care if everyone in this generation with my last name is female and the line is dying out, I am NOT appending that name to any of my children unless I keep my own name if/when I marry/breed. because Jesus, it's not like it's an uncommon surname. And girls with the name almost always turn out bad, and boys with the name spend their lives tortured by people asking "isn't that a girl's name?"
NO. it's a SURNAME.

My dad likes to rant about it sometimes. It's amusing.

[faunalind.livejournal.com]

Well, it's not so bad to marry a farmer. Except for that song - "I wouldn't marry a farmer, he's always in the dirt..." And a good friend of mine has your last name as her first name. Names stink. We can't choose nicknames as adults like the Elves did. Good lord, I'd love to choose my own nickname.

[dragonlady7.livejournal.com]

Woe? Oh dear, what kind of woe? Wait, was this today or yesterday? I don't think it's too terribly woeful today yet, but yesterday-- well, yesterday was actually pleasantly short on woe as well aside from the revelation of the schedule, about which I am not woeful so much as righteously indignant, which is fun in its own sort of way.
But yes. There is a time for all things, and a time for a pint of ice cream, and a time for half a chocolate stegosaurus, and a time to ruminate upon where one can get glittery fabric paint.
...
And a time to eat an omelet, which I had begged Dave to make me and then, airheadedly, had forgotten he was making until just now when he turned up with it.