I woke up this morning, and the answer was clear as day: Don’t expose yourself to that for another moment. Sometimes we think the grass is greener somewhere else when it actually isn’t. The “LGBT” job gave me a dollar more an hour, a full-time position with a lot of benefits, and hopes of moving up to management in a brief amount of time, but I just see it as a dangling carrot at this point. I’d have had to stick with the BS for an entire three months to “earn” my benefits, and I just couldn’t. If it was that bad for me after four days, then there was no hope for it getting better in 90 days. I think I probably would have needed to talk to a shrink by the time 90 days were up. I’m just kidding. I don’t do shrinks, but my condition as of last Thursday when I got home from work wasn’t good. I was angry. I felt humiliated, rejected, unwanted, abandoned, and just about every other negative emotion that one could feel. That was the kind of work environment that would have constantly been trying to drag me down into a state of darkness, and I can’t have that. No job or benefit is worth all that, and the devil isn’t going to get to steal my progress.
So let’s just say that the job position wasn’t what I expected. “Abuse recipient/garbage receptacle” wasn’t on the job title list. I was too new to complain or to request to go to another store, and that location didn’t require me to have a running vehicle. I could just walk to work, which was a nice setup, but I guess my tolerance for high school games on the job is really low now. Plus, I got tired of the creepy time punch machine trying to force me to type three sixes in a row. Long story.
The only thing I was interested in was the health benefits, and they had a $1,000 or $3,0000 deductible anyway. That’s not really anything to write home about. I’d still be in the same position of not being able to get care until I coughed up a lot of money. That’s not really very helpful.
I called out and told the manager on duty that I was sick to my stomach, which I am. In the nastiest voice, she answered, “Well you know that’s a NO-CALL NO-SHOW if you don’t call out four hours before your shift.” I think I called 26 minutes after the fourth hour, and they didn’t even answer the phone the first time I called, but I let her have her petty threat. I said, “That’s fine.”
I want to witness to people and everything like that, but I don’t think my Heavenly Father wants me to be unhealthy. It’s one thing to work in an environment that isn’t perfect. It’s another thing to work in one that’s traumatic. I’m going to call the store manager tomorrow and tell her thank you very much, but it just wasn’t what I expected it to be. ALL jobs have crap with them. Even my part-time job that I have has some crap with it. People act up on that job, too, but it’s different. I can work part-time for them and not feel ILL when I get off. They don’t offer full-time positions to people who are not keyholders, so I’ll be stuck on part-time with no benefits for Lord knows how long. Benefits aren’t worth my soul or my sanity, though. They’re just not worth it.
I researched this type of thing, you know, toxic work environments. Some people don’t even put up with that mess for ONE day, let alone four days, lol. In fact, it was on a list of the top LEGITIMATE reasons to leave a job immediately on day one. What I did wasn’t unheard of or unusual for someone who had gon through what I went through. Yes, I’m older in age, and no, full-time jobs with bennies aren’t easy to come by. But the Lord will make a way if it’s in His will for me to have a different job.
There’s nothing a target worker can do about unhealthy coworker practices really. Complainers get beat up worse. HR is unlikely to help. The abusers hardly ever realize or care that their behavior hurts people. The only thing to do is leave unless it’s the only job in the world for the person.