Hey, Waitress

I never really had a nickname until college. People just called me Jessica, and when I moved to Austin, I shortened my name to Jess. I was bestowed a few nicknames by new friends in college: Beast, Jess-Sex-Fayce (I never quite understood that one,) and Jestabeast. When B & I started dating, I received even more nicknames: Cake, Babycakes, Cakey (you see a theme).

I’ve been waitressing for almost half my life, starting when I was thirteen, and when faced with the expenses of living on my own in Austin, I returned to my old safety net of the service industry. My reemergence on the restaurant scene earned me a new nickname: Waitress. Or, alternatively: “Hey, Waitress,” “Excuse Me, Miss.” and “Hey, Sorry.”

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Deadline Day

Occasion: Work — Deadline Day
Shirt: Thrifted (Buffalo Exchange) | Cardi: Garage Sale
Skirt: American Apparel | Shoes: Target | Belt: Thrifted

So, Tuesdays are the day I have to make sure the paper happens. Obviously, I don’t write all the stories and take all the photos, but I have to get it all layed out, PDF-it, and send it to the press. By 4PM. -Ish. Sometimes I make it, sometimes I don’t. It’s always stressful, and sometimes I’m wretched to be around.

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Small Protest

Thank you to everyone who commented and re-posted my post about abusive jobs yesterday. I know a lot of you are still dealing with what we all went through, and I hope you too find some catharsis. I’m already feeling much better. I was nervous about putting the link up on Facebook, but I really wanted everyone to see it, even if some of the current employees see it. (Maybe they need to.)

When I was doing research for the post (yes, I did research!) I was looking for some sort of resource to list at the end, some sort of answer or understanding. What I found was, at best, an article or two about abusive co-workers, and at worst, a long-from sales letter about abusive jobs. I found very little about abusive companies, something I think that most people are just too afraid to talk about.

It makes sense, right? We’re lucky to have our jobs. We depend on our jobs to be able to make ends meet. Not all jobs are bad. I love my current job, I love my co-workers, my boss is an honest man who runs an honest company, a company that’s been around for many years. I think, as my friend Katie pointed out, the problem lies mostly with the fly-by-night upstarts who are only around for a few years and then fizzle out. (Because, honestly, you cannot sustain a company on exhausted, abused employees.)

I think it’s very interesting that we’re able to go to these jobs everyday and experience the things we experience, and just… do nothing. We’re not rioting or protesting or burning things. We’d rather feel the slow death of unhappiness and monotony than look for change.

That post was my small protest. I hope it makes a difference.

When You’re in an Abusive Relationship…With Your Job.

(Photo: The Library of Virginia)

I think I’m ready to talk about it.

I say “I think,” because are you ever really ready to talk about the eight months of hell you endured while being systematically brainwashed by an egomaniac? I doubt it. But I think I’ve come to a place where it’s actually unhealthy to not talk about it, and would be a disservice to young people everywhere if I kept my mouth shut.

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