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Drama!

So. Friday night work has become... a thorn in my side.

Recently work aqucired it's very own pet pointy-haired-boss. Honest to god, he knows not a damn thing. Every suggestion (read, commandment) he had made has made our (the employees) life hell and the life of the customer a more confusing arrangement than it needs to be. The store layout has been changed about a gazillion times in the passed two months, every item on shelf has been re-priced not one, but TWICE, a new ill-advised catalogue system has been introduced... but it was never really a problem for me, because I started work at 4 on fridays, and he left the building at 5.

No big deal.

Sure, I had heard stories about the shitness of the pointless jobs other staff members have had to do, but I thought I was largely free to shelve, re-price, and serve customers. I actually like serving customers; I like being helpful, I like being 'that sales-girl who isn't a complete cow just because I want her to do her job'. Life was pretty good.

Or so I thought.

Pointy-haired-boss has now decided that the entirety of my shifts are to be filled with entering the traded goods for the week into the data-base. Data entry. FUCKING data entry.

Don't misunderstand. Data entry is not the shittest job out there. I know, I've done data entry for a job before. But I didn't try out for this job to do data entry - I (as strange as this may sound) wanted to do retail. Customer service. Something different from the monotony of mt PhD life.

Not only data entry, mind you, but data entry at a desk with no room, a keyboard at the wrong angle (hello, RSI!), a monitor at the wrong height (hello, eye-strain!), and no chair (hello, back problems!). For four hours. Trying to do eight hours worth of data entry in four hours.

You know what? A) I didn't sign up to do data entry (remember, I don't mind doing some data entry, but not for my whole shift, thankyou very much), B) OHaS regulations state that I at least need a FUCKING CHAIR for long periods of computer work and C) if I wanted a data entry job, I'd be getting paid more than I am now.

So, one of the manager-in-training boys I work with (a real sweet kid) is going to talk to pointy-haired-boss and try to work something out. If this doesn't pan out, then I'm probably going to speak to Mr pointy-haired-boss myself, citing Occupational Health and Safety regulations (because nothing scares managers more) as I go. If that doesn't work, I'll probably quit. For the hours I work and the money I earn, it isn't worth it.

Look, I'm being all assertive and stuff.

Comments

( 6 comments — Leave a comment )
paracelsus
Dec. 5th, 2004 03:49 am (UTC)
That's the spirit! He's just a boss.

Are you and Jye coming to the party Georgie and I are throwing next Saturday? You'd be most welcome.
delwyn
Dec. 5th, 2004 04:29 am (UTC)
And more importantly than their party, why weren't you at mine last night? :(
miss_rynn
Dec. 5th, 2004 06:36 am (UTC)
Ummmm... Because I'm shit?

Actaully, after burning the lining of my nose with hydrochloric acid fumes I didn't feel up to very much at all...
delwyn
Dec. 5th, 2004 07:52 am (UTC)
*nods* Thought that might have influenced your activities (or lack of). Take care of yourself, and gimme a call so we can arrange dinner.
miss_rynn
Dec. 5th, 2004 07:59 am (UTC)
I'd like that! December is looking much free-er than November was.
unsworn_nomore
Dec. 5th, 2004 04:34 am (UTC)
There should be an OHS rep at your work (although possibly not work at the same time as you, alas) - taking your concerns to them is a good start.

And if your manager proves recalcitrant, don't quit - report him to the appropriate law enforcement agency and enjoy his suffering.
( 6 comments — Leave a comment )