(The F word is peppered throughout this post. Read at your own risk.)
My position is being eliminated today. Or, at least, today I’ll be told.
And it really fucking sucks.
I’ve been spoiled with this position for the last two years. It’s a position they actually opened for me when, two and a half years ago, I announced I was interested in transferring to another hotel. They opened this position, gave me a Monday through Friday schedule, set hours, lots of freedom and flexibility… and for two and a half years, it was AWESOME.
I’m caught off guard by this for one big reason. I know our budget. I do the schedule. Our hours and productivity are FINE. There is no reason to eliminate my position, especially since we have two positions currently open. And what’s funny is we so can’t afford to fill them. We fill those positions and we’re fucked.
My pal, Jason, was the one who tipped me off. When all this shit began to hit the fan and the layoffs started months ago, we promised each other that we’d clue the other in if their job was on the line. I didn’t want to be that sucker who went on about their day, happily doing their job, just to be hit with, “Sorry, but your positions been eliminated.”
I’m glad he told me. I was able to call The Husband and cry all over myself in private. Now the only thing I’ll have to worry about is making my “it’s just allergies” sound convincing.
And if he’s right and it’s my title that’s the problem, then just fucking give me a new one! I work with a bunch of fucking ass clowns.
I’m sorry, but I’m really fucking pissed.
Oh, there are options. I can take a supervisor position in one of two departments. Or I can step down and be a front desk clerk again. To be honest, it’s all about figuring out which one is the lesser evil. Would I rather manage people I
hate strongly dislike or be managed by people I hate strongly dislike?
I suppose the answer is obvious. I’d rather manage. But I was a supervisor before and the thought of going back makes me want to vomit. I hated being a supervisor. I hate the meetings, the whiny associates, the constant ass-kissing.
And I’m not going to apologize for whining. Yes, I know it’s great to still be employed. I’m lucky and should be grateful. Well, whoop-dee-fucking-doo. I’d rather just sit here and stew in my anger.
Maybe I’m too afraid and too comfortable. Maybe I should take severance and hit the road, see what else is out there.
Oh, God, I really hope I don’t cry when they tell me.