I Won’t Be In Today

You know what would be nice? To have a job where I can call and be honest. 

When I can’t possibly face leaving the house and the mere thought of it leaves me in tears, it’d be nice to call up the boss and tell him the truth, instead of having to make up a physical ailment.  

Diarrhea is a good one. 

But so are migraines, which are even less visible than anxiety and depression, at least on me. 

It’s bullshit. 

Yesterday and today are the first time I’ve had two days off in a row since November. Everyone else gets off whenever they want; I have to bargain with my free time, like it’s valuable to anyone besides me. I’ve been acting assistant manager since September, and I’m not going to ever actually be assistant manager. 

Last week, a third person was hired for the position. He can’t start yet, so I’m still expected to perform all the duties I’m not paid to perform. 

Last night, the manager texted and called because he screwed up the last piece we had for a shadow box, to see if I knew where a spare was, even though the other two employees had both worked since I last did, and he himself received the package with the spare in it the day before. 

The night before, the former assistant manager texted and called because she couldn’t find her charger. 

What I liked about my job was the lack of responsibility. The fact that when I was off the clock, I had absolutely zero work-related concerns. 

When the assistant manager stepped down, that’s when I went back on antidepressants. And now, it isn’t enough anymore. 

I can’t cope with feeling pulled in a million different directions. I need part-time work because I need time to myself, and time with my husband, and time to relax, and time to write, and time to work. I can’t not work; that doesn’t work out for me. But I’ve never been able to find a job with a good two-way street of loyalty. 

And it gets to me. 

I’ve cried too much today. But crying in my own bed is better than dying inside  as I sell my soul under the fluorescent lights. 

Better still would be a world where I can call in to work because I am drowning in depression and can’t swim my way out by the time I’m scheduled to be in, thanks. 


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