#my boss gave me a verbal schedule for the next like three months | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

zackcollins · 4 years

Text

if you met me first ch. 3 || mathew barzal

chapter 1 || chapter 2 || masterlist

Author’s Note: Here’s chapter 3!! I finished it relatively quickly after chapter 2 but I’m scheduling for it to be posted on September 7th, 2020 at 13:00 EST because it’ll both give me some more time for chapter 4 and because I think I want to space out the days when I post parts of chaptered fics. I’ve been told that people like the anticipation of the next chapter, so I’m going to try to wait a few days between chapters so everyone has some suspense. If that’s alright with everyone. Let me know if I should change that idea. I’ll work with any reasonable suggestions I’m given. GIF credit to draisaitlpasta!!

Warnings: There’s the briefest mention of Barzy being in what could be considered the start of an anxiety response. I won’t spoil why; all I’ll say is that it’s towards the end of the chapter just so you know in case you have to avoid it.

Word Count: 1.8k+

Title: If You Met Me First by Eric Ethridge

Additional: The reader is still gender-neutral! I think I’m managing really well with keeping it that way but let me know if I’ve accidentally gendered them. I’ll either go in and fix it or just change this note to reflect the gender I wrote them as. Whichever it is that you guys prefer. I hope that’s okay and I hope you enjoy this!

Mathew hummed and kissed your forehead.

“Surprise,” he said, voice eerily calm for the situation.

“What about—“

“I called your boss,” Mathew interjected. He kissed your forehead again and ran his fingers through your hair. “I told her that I was your long-distance boyfriend and that I was surprising you with a trip to St. Lucia for our anniversary. It didn’t take much convincing after that.”

You felt yourself smirk as your heartbeat sped up. Your stomach filled with butterflies when you saw the confident look on Mathew’s face.

“You were really banking on me saying I liked you,” you said, kissing Mathew’s cheek.

“Tito—the whole team, really—said I was being an oblivious moron,” Mathew replied. “They all said that from the way I talked about you and our interactions, your feelings for me were incredibly obvious and that they were dumbfounded as to how I didn’t notice sooner. They’re the reason I called today; they told me to call for myself or they would call for me.”

You chuckled, patting Mathew on the cheek. Mathew chuckled, kissing your wrist as you pulled it away. You shivered a little at the contact, smiling weakly. Mathew smiled weakly in return, eyes conveying an emotion you weren’t sure you knew how to read.

Mathew yawned just then, causing his eyes to shift from the unreadable emotion to an emotion that was much more familiar to you—tiredness. He shifted a few times on the couch in what you assumed was an attempt to get comfortable. You shifted until you were able to swing your legs over the side of the couch, standing up. You offered your hand to Mathew, helping him stand.

“C’mon,” you said, leading him through the living room and down the hallway. “It’ll be more comfortable if we sleep in my bed.”

You felt Mathew’s heartbeat quicken through the pulse point in his wrist. You smiled internally as you continued walking down the hallway.

When you were in the bedroom, Mathew froze a few feet from the bed. You looked up at him after sitting down at the foot of the bed. You raised your hands in a questioning gesture and nodded your head towards Mathew.

“What’s wrong,” you asked, voice somewhat laced with concern. Everything had seemed fine in the living room and you were concerned you had accidentally done something to upset Mathew on the short walk to the bedroom.

“What…” he trailed off and squeezed his eyes shut.

You found that odd because he wasn’t normally the nervous type. Sure, he got antsy sometimes but he never usually left sentences unspoken.

“What should I wear,” he asked, motioning to his body. “Do I wear this? Or do I get down to my underwear?”

You discreetly let out the nervous breath you had been holding. Finding out you hadn’t done anything wrong made you feel a lot better.

When you composed yourself, you looked at what Mathew was wearing. You noticed that he was in a pair of blue jeans, a black cardigan, a white t-shirt, a pair of black socks and his favourite silver necklace. As he stood there, he was fiddling with his cardigan sleeves. You briefly saw his wrists and noticed that he was wearing bracelets that would fit perfectly with any teenage girl’s aesthetic.

You sighed and ran a hand through your hair.

“You can sleep in your t-shirt and underwear.” You motioned to his socks. “And your bracelets, necklace, and socks, if you sleep in those.”

Mathew put his hand on his chest and contorted his face into one of humourous disgust.

“Only heathens sleep with socks on,” he said, voice condescending in nature.

You chuckled and gave Mathew a thumbs up. “Good answer.”

Mathew smirked, returning the thumbs up. You rolled your eyes and shook your head at him before focusing your attention on undressing and changing yourself for bed.

Just as you were sliding your pyjama shirt over your head, you felt the bed sink lower. You looked over as soon as the shirt was over your head. You smiled when you saw Mathew sitting there in his t-shirt and boxer-briefs, looking at you with a nervous expression.

Wanting to ease some of his nerves, you reached over and tapped the tip of his nose with your finger; you said a soft ‘boop’ as you did. When Mathew snorted and cracked the smallest of smiles, you knew your mission had been accomplished; you repeated the action and verbal aspect a second time for good measure.

Mathew reached over, squishing your face with his hand. He pushed your head back slightly as he did. You giggled when he removed his hand.

“Dork,” Mathew said, squishing your face and pushing it backwards again.

This time, you licked the part of his hand that was over your mouth. Mathew recoiled his hand, scoffing as he wiped it on your pyjama pants. You giggled as he glared at you, though you saw no heat behind it. Rather, he looked like he was trying not to laugh.

“That’s what you get,” you said between giggles. “Has no one taught you that putting your hand over someone else’s face means that it’s going to get licked?”

Mathew grumbled, poking your nose. You giggled harder, holding onto your stomach because it was starting to hurt. Mathew chuckled along with you but you could tell that there was an undertone of concern to the way that he was looking at you.

“I… I’m…” you said, words coming out in wheezes as you giggled relentlessly. “I’m… fine, Mat… Mathew.”

Mathew’s face softened a little but you could tell that he was still looking at you cautiously. You respected him for the fact that he wanted to make sure that you were okay. You honestly were okay. You would have told him otherwise if you needed to. It had just been ages since you had laughed like this and, because of that, everything felt more intense than it normally did.

When you had finally calmed down from your intense giggling fit, you noticed that Mathew had stopped looking at you cautiously. You now noticed that he was looking at you lovingly. Your stomach swooped and you were fairly certain it wasn’t because you had just spent fifteen minutes giggling like a fool. You swallowed the nervous lump that had formed in your throat.

“Is it okay if we cuddle,” you asked.

When Mathew stared at you blankly, you realized that had been a stupid question.

“We were cuddling on the couch,” you said, mostly to yourself. “Of course it’s okay if we cuddle.”

Mathew grabbed your face, directing you to look at him. You felt the tension you had ease when you noticed that he didn’t look annoyed with you.

“Hey,” he said, soothing his thumb along your chin. “I get it. You’re nervous. How long have you waited for this?”

You sighed, biting your lip. Mathew nodded, smiling softly as he soothed his thumb along your chin a second time.

“We’ve been friends for, what,” you paused, looking at the ceiling in an attempt to help yourself remember the number, “six years?”

Mathew hummed, nodding. “Something like that.”

You bit your lip again, this time squeezing your eyes shut. Mathew soothed his thumb along your chin again, humming a couple of times as he did.

“Look at me,” he said, softly.

When you opened your eyes, you saw that Mathew was looking at you with that same unreadable expression from earlier. It didn’t bother you that you couldn’t decipher it; instead, it made you feel at peace. Something about it brought you a sense of calm and it was helping you with your decision to tell Mathew the answer to his question.

“I started liking you after three months of being friends,” you said, smiling weakly at Mathew.

Mathew chuckled, leaning forward and kissing your cheek.

“It only took me a month and a half,” he said before laying down on the bed.

He didn’t look at you when he asked, softly, “Can I be the little spoon?”

Instead of replying, you laid down behind Mathew. You slotted your bodies together, wrapping your arms around his midsection and burying your head in the nape of his neck.

“Thank you,” Mathew muttered, though it was faint, strained, and wet with the beginnings of tears so you barely heard him.

“Hey. Hey,” you mumbled into Mathew’s neck, squeezing him closer to you. “I’d never shame you for that. If you need to be the little spoon sometimes, you need to be the little spoon sometimes. Being the one getting cuddled is fine, Mathew. Some people need the comfort of a person surrounding them. It doesn’t make you any less of a man. Needing human contact is normal.”

Mathew sniffled wetly a couple of times, his breathing somewhat shaky. You kissed the nape of his neck and brought your hands up, splaying them across his chest. Mumbling sweet nothings into his neck and softly compressing his chest seemed to calm him down. You kissed his neck a few more times as his breathing evened out in an attempt to keep him calm.

“Thank you,” Mathew said once his breathing was completely under control, though his voice did sound somewhat strained. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you and we aren’t even officially dating yet.”

You chuckled into Mathew’s neck, flicking his chin with one of your hands.

“I admitted to having feelings for you,” you said. “I didn’t disagree with you when you mentioned that you were my boyfriend because it helped you get me out of work so you could take me to St. Lucia. I didn’t say no to going to St. Lucia even though we’re going tomorrow and I had no warning. Use your head, Mathew.”

“I thought we’ve established that I need things spelled out for me,” Mathew deadpanned.

You chuckled, flicking Mathew’s chin again.

“Fair enough.”

Mathew chuckled but it quickly turned into a yawn. You pat his chest before dropping your arms so that they were back around his midsection.

“Let’s get some sleep,” you said, pulling Mathew in closer to you.. “We need it because tomorrow is going to be a long day.”

Mathew hummed as he grabbed the blanket and tossed it over the top of both of you. You smiled into Mathew’s neck as you closed your eyes, shifting a few times to make yourself comfortable.

Right as you were drifting off to sleep, you heard Mathew’s soft snoring. Snoring normally bothered you but it felt different hearing it from the man you had carried a torch for for the last six years. It made you feel at ease.

The last thing you registered before your brain switched to subconscious thoughts was Mathew mumbling something in his sleep.

“Can’t wait for tomorrow.”

83 notes · View notes

xmxisxforxmaybe · 4 years

Text

Elliot, Just a Tech

Summary: Plagued by not having Admin rights on your work computer, you contact the IT department expecting to talk to your usual guy. However, you are greeted by someone new.

A/N: Consider this post-show

WC: 2596

Warnings: None

You looked over the icons on your desktop for the eleventh time, dragging the old version of Adobe into the trash for the tenth time, and growling with frustration as the error message appeared for what felt like the hundredth time.

Please enter an Administrator’s Username and Password.

After the great email phishing scam the month prior, the IT department had been directed to revoke all employee’s Admin rights to their computers. It wasn’t your fault your colleagues were too dumb to realize that you should not click on email that has been flagged as spam, even if it is a version of your boss’s name: Mattthew Whitman has scheduled a meeting with you at 9 pm!

As if Matthew spelled with three ts wasn’t enough to deter someone, scheduling a meeting at 9 at night should have been, not to mention the exclamation point to top it all off—no one ever enthusiastically scheduled a meeting. Ever.

Alas, no less than 13 people had opened the email, severely compromising the integrity of the network.

You needed to get rid of the old version of Adobe in order for your network’s cloud to allow the download of the updated version, so you were left with no choice but to submit a ticket to the IT department.

You and Matt, no relation to Mattthew your boss, had had several Zoom sessions since the start of the quarantine, mostly thanks to your need to actually get some work done. With so many more people on your network, the IT department was doing the best it could to make sure everyone was achieving basic functionality.

Opening a new work order, you quickly filled in your information and snapped a screen shot of the error message. In less than a minute, you had an email inviting you to a Zoom session.

“Matt’s really on it today,” you said while opening the link and waiting for him to start the session.

You had just glanced away to check your To-Do list when someone opened the Zoom session and you paused, staring at the downturned face of someone who was definitely not Matt.

“Hi,” you greeted awkwardly.

“Hi,” he answered, still not looking into the camera.

“Where’s Matt?”

The stranger looked into the camera, clearly caught off-guard.

“Uh, he’s off today.”

“So they finally unchained him from his desk—good for him!”

The stranger’s eyes widened a little in amusement, but he didn’t smile which caused your grin to quickly fade.

“Are you . . .” the stranger trailed off as he glanced at his other desktop monitor. “Y/N?”

“I am. And you are?”

“Elliot.”

“Are you the new Supervisor they were hiring for last week?”

“Nope. Just a Tech.”

“All right. Well, hi, Elliot, just a Tech. I’m in dire need of installing an update, which I cannot do because my colleagues are dumbasses.”

This time Elliot did smile, and you found yourself reaching up to fix the wild bun on the top of your head, wishing you had actually taken some time out not to look like a troll who had crawled out from under its bridge.

“I see that you can’t install Adobe’s update without administrative permission.”

“Yup. That’s my issue, I think.”

“I want to try something first,” Elliot said, concentrating on the task at hand as he looked away from the camera and to his other monitor.

“Can you locate your system preferences? You can find it by clicking on the appl-“

“Done. What do you want me to go into?”

Elliot looked back into the camera, then gave you a series of steps which you quickly followed.

“I am only semi-illiterate when it comes to technology,” you said, trying again to get him to smile and this time it worked.

Elliot adjusted his headset and lowered his eyes as he grinned. “You wouldn’t believe the things I’ve had to explain over the past few days.”

“Oh, I would absolutely believe them. I’ve talked three people in my department off a ledge just by explaining the magical powers of “Command + Z.”

Elliot chuckled, and the sound of his laughter filtering through the mic on his headset made you want to stay on the call as long as you could stretch it out.

“It looks like the program is not responding. I’ll need to take remote control of your desktop.”

“Have at it.”

You watched as Elliot worked, waiting for your mouse to start moving across the screen, but nothing happened.

“Uh, do you have any error messages on your end?”

“Nope.”

“Let me try one more thing,” Elliot mumbled, his eyes narrowed in concentration.

You sat quietly, letting him work, which gave you an excuse to just look at him and the more you looked at him, the more attractive you realized he was.

Elliot had a stylish haircut, although it looked like his fade had grown in quite a bit thanks to the lockdown. Tufts of straight black hair stood up on either side of his headset and you wondered if they’d be stiff or soft to the touch. His eyes were large, clearly the most enticing of the features of his face, except for his angular jaw that made you softly smile in appreciation of its masculinity. Elliot may consider himself “just a Tech,” but he was a damn good looking one.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” you blurted out, forgetting all of your manners thanks to the lack of social interaction.

Elliot fumbled as he was typing and looked into the camera, his lips parted.

“Oh, lord. That came out . . . blunt. I asked because Matt’s been loving working from home. His wife just had a baby and even though he’s chained up in his home office at all hours of the day he still gets to spend time with the people he cares about. Which is what I was trying to ask you—if you were enjoying working from home.” You finished with an awkward laugh, and a barrage of mental curses to yourself.

Elliot’s lip turned up with a quirk. “My sister stops by to bring supplies, but I live alone.”

“Oh—well, that’s nice you have someone to interact with. I still see my sister, too.”

“I like this. Not having to interact with people.”

“The only downside is the verbal vomit you spew when talking to someone new because you no longer understand social protocol.”

Elliot laughed again, that same breathy little chuckle that upgraded from drawing your attention to making you shift in your chair.

“I’ve never been particularly adept at social protocol. Hence . . . just a Tech.”

You laughed and Elliot must have liked the sound because he stopped to watch you, his eyes flicking over your face through the camera.

“You need to update the Zoom app for me to take over your desktop. I don’t know why yours seems to have this glitch, but are you ready for the steps?”

You grabbed your pen and a fresh post-it. “Lay it on me, Tech.”

Elliot smirked, then listed the steps. “I’m going to close the call, but as soon as you’ve completed the steps, click on our Zoom link again.”

“Got it!”

Your eyes connected and lingered for just a moment before Elliot closed out the call.

You missed him immediately.

“Oh, Matt. If I had known Zoom calls could be like this, I’d have dumped you long ago.”

You shook your head to clear it and began to go through the steps Elliot had listed for you. You wanted to get this right to prove to him that you weren’t incompetent.

Having successfully, and quickly, completed all of the steps on your Post-it, you reinitiated the Zoom meeting.

“You’re quick.”

“I’m sure you’re much, much faster,” you said.

“I can only go as fast as the web connection, unfortunately,” Elliot replied, staring into his other monitor again.

“Let’s try this again—remember the steps to give me remote access?”

“I think so . . .” you said, trailing off as you began to click.

You paused, then your mouse began to move without you.

“Excellent job,” Elliot praised and you knew you wanted him to praise you again . . . preferably away from a computer, maybe in a bedroom—

“All right. So I need to delete, reinstall, and wait for an error message that’s been popping up making this a little harder for people to do themselves.”

You watched Elliot control your computer, and once he got to a point where the app was updating, he paused and turned back to the camera.

“About that girlfriend thing you asked me earlier. Are you seeing . . . anyone?”

“I was . . . about six months ago. By the time I was ready to get back on the horse, the plague struck.”

Elliot chuckled. “Not exactly the best time to start dating.”

“No,” you said softly laughing, too. “I agree with you, about the whole nice not seeing people thing, though. For me, it’s more about setting my own schedule. I get so much more done without constant interruptions just to chat.”

“Kinda like we are now?”

“Hey! We are waiting on a signal to go to space and come back. It’s only polite to give it some time so it doesn’t feel like it’s being watched—like a watched pot never boils kinda thing.”

Elliot smiled, his eyes meeting yours and lingering as you smiled back.

A new box popped up breaking your eye contact and Elliot went back to work.

“Fixed. You shouldn’t have to worry about the next update. We’ve been reporting this glitch regularly so the developers should have it fixed by then.”

“Thanks, Elliot. I really appreciate it.”

“It’s my job,” he said with a slight shrug.

“Well, enjoy the rest of your afternoon,” you said, wishing you had a reason to stay connected.

“Yeah.” Elliot replied, looking at you again with those hypnotic, grey-blue eyes. If they could impress you through a screen, imagine what they looked like in person. “You too.”

You smiled at each other and when neither of you closed the call, you both laughed, Elliot looking a little shy and you looking a little embarrassed.

“I’ll close it. Don’t forget to fill in your survey so big brother knows I did my job.”

“Five-star service, all the way!”

Elliot chuckled again, and you shivered this time, the sound of his voice working its way through your entire body, filling you with a pleasant warmth.

“Bye,” he said, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth as he ended the meeting.

When the session closed out, you began to think of ways to break your computer so you needed to talk to him again, but before you could pull a purposefully dumbass move like downloading a virus, a sticky note popped up on your desktop.

212 555 0179

Probably breaking work protocol, but text me sometime if you want.

~Elliot, just a Tech

“Oh my god!” you gasped, glancing up at your camera to make sure you really were disconnected, unable to shake that feeling like someone was watching you. You reached for your packet of stickers and placed a fresh one over the camera of your computer—better paranoid than sorry!

“Should I text him now? Is that desperate? Or is it mean to make him wait? Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you said, pacing around your small office space.

“Just a simple hello,” you decided. “First, gotta find my phone.”

After walking through your apartment, you found your phone in the kitchen, unsurprisingly because snacking had become your favorite hobby since the lockdown began. It was a blessing and curse to be able to eat whenever you wanted.

You took your cell back to your computer and smiled again at Elliot’s virtual Post-it note and typed in his number and contact information.

Hi, Elliot ☺️

Hi, Y/N. I hope your emoji means I didn’t creep you out

That’s what this one 😱 is for

Lol. Got it. I don’t really do the emoji thing. They kinda confuse me

Well then! Maybe that’s why we met? You know all the real techy stuff, and I know all the silly techy stuff. I can teach you to emoji like a boss 😎

Sunglasses = boss? Shades? Because bosses are shady?

🤣more like the shades mean you’re just too cool to care. Like a boss attitude. But actually 🤔that’s a really great analysis!

See? Confusing 👽

Confusing as in no one knows what’s really “out there” huh? Wow. I like your way of emojiying (new word, just go with it)

Lol really?

I do!

Can I ask you something?

Sure

Which emoji makes you think of me?

👀🦋💬🧸🧨 😰📱😃

You stared at Elliot’s text, a goofy grin on your face as you tried to puzzle out his emoji story. The eyes, okay, but the rest was sort of a mystery.

Lol! I need to do this in pieces so you can tell me if I’m right or wrong

So, you saw me and thought I was nice? Pretty? Delicate?

Lol pretty

Ok. Thanks, btw. We talked and then, oh boy, this is tough. An exploding bear? Talking to me made you feel like you were going to die? This is not good.

🤣 Poor choice of the firecracker, clearly, but take them as two separate things. What do you associate with a teddy bear?

Um, childhood . . . safety? Protection?

Close! Warm, safe. You seem like a warm, safe person to talk to.

I am grinning like an idiot right now. You are so sweet. But on to the firecracker? Wait! Like sassy? Like I have a firecracker personality?

Yes! You’re funny in a forward, witty way. I guess the “She’s a real firecracker” thing might be a bit outdated.

I LOVE IT. I gotta keep going now. This part is easy, I think. Sooo even though you felt nervous, you took a chance and left me your cell, and now you know it was a good choice because you made me happy.

Almost—when you texted, it made ME happy. Hence 😃 and I have big eyes so I used the big eye happy face.

I.am.dying. That’s the cutest thing anyone has ever done over a text in the history of the world!

Lol. Is there a dramatic emoji because I don’t think anything I’ve ever done is that great.

This WAS great. I’m serious

Do you wanna maybe have dinner over Zoom? God how lame is that?

You respect the quarantine—not lame at all. I’d love to!

They let me unchain myself around 6. I’ll send you a link at 7?

Perfect! But what are we going to order? Shouldn’t we order from the same place to make it more authentic?

Do you like Chinese?

Who doesn’t?

You looked at the location Elliot sent and laughed with the irony that it was your favorite take-out spot.

How did you know that was my favorite take-out spot?

Lucky guess 🤷🏽‍♂️

Well, lucky Elliot who is just a Tech. I’ll “see” you at 7. If we order the same dinner, I’ll consider it a sign that we are meant to take over the world together by eliminating one dumbass’s access to a computer at a time 🦸‍♀️🦸‍♂️

Lol except that would leave me out of a job

We will find you something more meaningful, I promise

Make me a list 😃

You got it! Can’t wait for 7 ☺️

Me either

* * * * *

Tags: @ramimedley @clumsybookworm18 @r-ahh-mi @aboutthatmelancholystorm @alottanothing @sherlollydramoine @txmel @diasimar @hah0106 @flipper-kisses @rami-malek-trash @ramisgirl512 @dancing-disco-deacy @just-a-queen-bee @eightiesriot

Maybe a Part II?

#Elliot Alderson #elliot alderson x reader #female reader (but it is pretty ambiguous)#elliot alderson fanfic #elliot alderson imagine #fluff #for now #Rami Malek character #rami malek fanfiction

160 notes · View notes

mewmedic · 4 years

Text

A Very Kingfield Christmas

Read it on AO3 here.

Summary: Dwight and David are both working at the mall during the horrendous holiday season. They sometimes keep each other company to make the job more tolerable. Dwight wants to move forward in their relationship but can he get into the Christmas spirit to pull it all together?

Warnings: Mentions of sex but no actual sex occurs.

Notes: My first DbD fic was supposed to be either Megdette or Dwake because those are my favorite ships. However, I came up with a clever Kingfield Christmas idea and Christmas week also happens to be Kingfield week. Fate had taken the wheel from me on this one. I hope it's alright because I haven't written any fics in years. Enjoy!

It was finally time. After four hours of pain and suffering, the moment Dwight had been waiting for had assuredly arrived, his legally mandated 30-minute lunch break. It was two o’ clock in the afternoon, late for lunch but a perfect time for a break as it was exactly in the middle of his shift. His Job? He played the role of “Mr. Elf” in the fantastical production of daily life many would call “being an assistant for a mall Santa.” He served this noble part-time cause all for the glorious reward of eight dollars an hour.

Dwight quickly rushed past the employee-only doors and headed to the punch out machine. Once upon a time, this wouldn’t be such a nerve-wracking experience but now lunch brought the opportunity to talk to a certain someone. He had recently started a relationship of sorts with a fellow employee, a British fellow by the name of David King. That is, if you considered getting fucked in a car within one of the mall’s many parking lots a relationship. He was currently trying to upgrade to getting fucked in a bedroom at the bare minimum. A man can dream, can’t he?

Sometimes the two would be able to chat as they eat, but other times David’s schedule just didn’t line up perfectly with his. Dwight always took his break at the same time every day, so it was really up to David to reciprocate. He had finished giving his precious time data and fingerprint to the punch out machine, rounded the corner, and there he was. David sat in a cheap foldable chair at plastic table, eyes on his phone for a moment but then he looked up and nodded to Dwight.

David’s dark red uniform consisting of a billed cap, button-up top, and cargo pants could use an ironing, but Dwight really had no room to talk. His own uniform had him trapped in itchy elf ears, an even itchier sweater, and a pair of pantaloons over leggings he had to thrift because he ripped the original pair. The worst part was the bells attached to the pantaloons, which jingled with every step he took towards the fridge. He grabbed his lunch box out of the fridge and plopped down on the chair across from David. Within Dwight lunchbox was a ham and cheese sandwich, a chocolate chip cookie, a bag of cheesy chips, and a water bottle. David on the other hand, had nothing but a beige-colored protein shake.

“You arrest any shoplifters today, mister mall cop?”

“You know I’m not a damn mall cop-“

“You’re a supervisor contracted out by a security company that works with the mall.” Dwight placed his chin in his palm and his elbow on the table, attempting to lean his body towards his companion. David crossed his arms, sharing a performative pout as he reclined back in his chair.

“And no, I didn’t arrest anyone. Even if I wanted to, I can only observe and report. They don’t even give me handcuffs!”

David did not have handcuffs at the ready, he tossed that fantasy out of mind. Dwight and David enjoyed the faux verbal jousting and it always quickly led to complaining about their jobs. Sometimes it was nice to have a routine, especially during the chaos of the holiday season. After all, nothing united coworkers quite like shit-talking a job with the risk that their boss may potentially be within earshot.

“Today, a girl who had to be at least eighteen threw herself onto Bill’s lap and started yelling about wanting a new gaming rig. I had to pry her off of him while her friends laughed at us. I thought the old man was gonna break his hip.”

“Customers act like Christmas is open season to being an asshole to us. I hoped maybe Americans would be different but they’re just as wild as back home this time of year.”

There was a pause between the two as David gulped down a long sip of his protein shake. Dwight seized the moment to rip a bite out of his sandwich, it had grown soggy after sitting for hours in the poorly maintained refrigerator. It was then that he realized that he knew nothing about English life and learning more could be a way to get closer to David.

“What is Christmas like in England?”

“Well, when you’re a kid. You don’t send your letters to Santa off to the post. You burn it in the fire.”

“That’s insane. How is it supposed to get to the North Pole?”

“I don’t know! The same way Santa’s fat-ass slides down the chimney. It’s all stupid magic that parents makeup. We also got this thing called a Christmas cracker.”

“Oooh, sounds yummy.”

“It’s not a snack. It’s a present you pull on both ends and it cracks open. Usually has a paper crown and other trinkets inside.” While David spoke, he pantomimed the act of tugging on the ends of this so-called cracker and then wiggled his fingers to represent the explosive crack. A smarmy grin creeped across his lips, “Of course, Christmas really gets interesting once you can get piss drunk.”

“C’mon, we do that here in the States too.”

“No, I mean really drunk. Parents will even leave out brandy and a mince pie for Santa too.”

“Wow, I couldn’t imagine being like ‘Okay Junior, we have to make sure Santa can get wasted tonight.’ Sounds wild.”

The two briefly chuckled for a moment. David consumed another gulp of his shake; Dwight shoved a handful of cheesy chips in his mouth. The two sat in silence for another moment, the only sound the crunching of said chips.

“Do Americans eat chipolatas on Christmas?”

“I have no idea what that is.”

“It’s a sausage, for Christmas we wrap it in bacon.”

“That sounds fucking incredible.”

“One thing I see here that I wish more folks did back home is all these fairy light. Americans love to have a show of things.”

“Oh, I have my apartment decorated like that.” This was silly little lie. Dwight was too busy working one and a half jobs to adorn his dwelling in accordance with any festivities. The poor fool could barely clean his bedroom once a month. He would be willing to make time to decorate if the glow of Christmas evening were enough to attract David.

“Well, I’d be delighted to see your flat. What’s it like?”

“It’s… Cozy.” This was not a lie so much, since ‘cozy’ was basically the millennial code word for ‘tiny studio apartment.’ Dwight gulped and could feel a line of sweat drip down from his hairline. This was the pivotal moment he had been anticipating every time he punched out for lunch. He just needed to work up the courage to make the move. “I’m free this weekend if you want to come by. I’ll have eggnog and we can watch a movie… If you want, that is.”

“I’m free Saturday after eight. That good for you?”

“Sure!” Dwight accidentally spoke with a little too much enthusiasm and the realization made his cheeks redden a little. He averted his gaze from David and looked down to his mediocre sandwich. The two continued to enjoy their meals, and each other’s company, for a brief moment until they were interrupted by an alarm on David’s phone. The Brit returned his protein shake to the refrigerator and gave a parting salute.

“See you when I see you.”

“Have fun supervising.”

He couldn’t help but let a small smile spread across his face as David exited the break room. He really pulled it off. Now he had to sacrifice what precious free time he possessed to pull off an exterior and interior decoration job. He could pull the whole operation off in the next three days, right? Did Dwight have what it takes to make this Christmas merry? Not really, but he can damn well try.

#Dead by Daylight #DbD #KingfieldWeek2020 #Kingfield #Dwight Fairfield #David King

11 notes · View notes

drummergirl231-2 · 5 years

Text

So the plan is to disclose my Autism to my employer today.

I. Am. Terrified. And I don’t speak well when I’m terrified.

(Note: This post has basically become my journal for all this work craziness, and for the few of you following the ordeal, please skip to the bottom for the most recent update.)

Disclosing my Misophonia when I was first hired didn’t go well. I’d specifically applied to work on the stock team. I’d worked on a stock team before. I loved it. I was good at it. I could handle the work environment.

Fast forward to orientation at this new job. I find out during my orientation, after they’d interviewed and hired me, that I would be working at the registers for the first three months of my employment and then be moved to work on the sales floor, even though I specifically applied for the stock team.

I knew this would be awful with my Misophonia (never mind my Autism) so I went to talk to my boss at the end of the shift and disclosed my Misophonia and asked if I could work on the stock team.

She said, “Honey, if you have a disability, you need to disclose that in your job application or in the interview!” Well, no I don’t. Not by law. I’d been denied housing over Misophonia and Autism before. I wasn’t about to disclose it to a potential employer when it never really hindered me at my last stock team job.

She said, “There’s a spot on job applications where it asks you if you have a disability and you say ‘yes’ or ‘no.’ You can’t lie on an application.” But that’s also wrong. The question is always, “Can you do the job for which you are applying with or without reasonable accommodation?” And of course, my answer was “Yes,” because I was applying for the stock team. And then sometimes there are some questions for statistics’ sake on a job application where it says “Do you have a disability?” and the answers are “Yes,” “No,” or “Choose not to answer.” I choose not to answer.

So I was not at all dishonest in my job application, but she was dishonest with me by hiring me for a job that is the exact opposite of what I applied for without even telling me in the interview what job I was really being interviewed for.

Then she said, “You have to tell people you have this, because I wouldn’t have hired you if I didn’t think you could do the job.” And this wasn’t a, “I believe you can do it and the proof is that I hired you!” This was a, “If you’d told me, I wouldn’t have made the mistake of offering you employment.” This was discrimination. And she said, “Do you think you can do this job?”

I tried to ask about the stock team again, and she said, “Well there are noises in the stock room, too... fans and other machines and people moving boxes...” She hadn’t heard of Misophonia five minutes before and now she was telling me what I could and couldn’t handle. But she gave me two options: try to work at the registers, or tell her, “Sorry, I guess I can’t work here after all.”

I did better than I expected at the registers, but the weird thing about Misophonia is that it sometimes eases up in new places temporarily. It still really messes with me, though. And working the registers is still terrifying because of my Autism, as is working the sales floor. I am not suited for this. If I belong anywhere in a retail store, it’s the stock room, working early in the morning when the store is closed.

I’m hypervigilant at work, terrified of customers (I had more verbally abusive customers over back-to-school season this year than I had over the whole year I worked there), I’m exhausted, I can barely maintain my weight (we’re talking 89 lbs on a 5′3″ frame on a good day... that’s 40 kg and 160 cm), and it’s only going to get worse with the holidays coming up.

I’d worked three Christmases in retail before working for this company, and I still loved Christmas, but after last year working for this company I started to hate Christmas, and I vowed to get out before this holiday season. It’s too late. I tried to get my old job back but that store has a new manager and she didn’t pick me, even though my previous boss there would offer me my job back whenever I was home from school without me even having to ask for it again. They liked me that much.

So my only options are 1. to suffer through this Christmas like last year, 2. quit without any other job lined up and no guarantee of employment when the holidays are over, or 3. try to disclose my Autism which has a huge flipping stigma attached to it and ask to be moved to the position in the store I applied for in the first place.

If she says “No,” I may have to quit anyway because I just can’t do this again. The other store never treated me like this (and they allowed me to practice my religious beliefs, too, which this store does not, violating Title VII). I feel so trapped and so lied to, tricked into doing a job that I just can’t handle, and I just know she’s going to turn it around on me and paint me as the dishonest one for not telling her about my Autism earlier.

Anyway, if you read all this... I am impressed. If you didn’t, I totally understand. If you’re the praying sort, please pray for me.

Update: Boss wasn’t there. She won’t be back ‘til Wednesday, so I’ll talk to her then. I did disclose my Autism to my favorite supervisor though, and she was cool. And she promised she wouldn’t tell anyone.

Another Update (10/22/19): Today a supervisor called me in to the office and had me shut the door. She had another person who does HR stuff there as a witness. She said the supervisor I’d talked to yesterday told them I wanted to be moved off the sales floor to accommodate a medical issue, and asked me if that was correct. I said. “Close to correct... but she said she wouldn’t tell anyone, so that’s cool...”

She told me that supervisor was required to tell management about this sort of thing, because if I have a disability that needs accommodating, I need to disclose that to management. I said, “I was going to disclose it to her” (my boss) “tomorrow when she’s back.” She said my boss is going on vacation though, so she’s acting as management.

So, with all my nervous ticks kicking in (excessive swallowing and inability to inhale so I constantly feel like I’m talking with the last bit of breath in my lungs) I told them everything. I told them I have Autism and applied to work on the stock team because I know I can do that well, how it would benefit the store to have me doing what I’m best at, how I was hired for a position I didn’t apply for and not told until orientation, how my boss said when I told her I have Misophonia “You have to disclose these things in your job application because I wouldn’t have hired you if I thought you couldn’t do this job,” how that made me afraid to talk about my Autism, and how by law I don’t have to say anything. I said I was only saying anything now because I’ve been dealing with burnout, and for the longest time I didn’t want to admit it because it’s retail and duh, we’re all stressed, but I never felt this kind of burnout working on the stock team of my other job. They only had me do sales floor stuff once a week, and that alone was exhausting for me. So I have grown in that area, but it’s still to much.

She said they definitely do want all their associates to be doing their best, so she was going to send in some accommodation work to people above her and they’d probably ask me for paperwork from my medical provider. I said, “I don’t have a medical provider. I don’t have insurance or a doctor... but I do have a letter from a counselor that says I’ve been diagnosed with Autism.”

She said, “I don’t know exactly what they’ll ask of you, but you’ll need to provide them with whatever paperwork they ask for and I’m gonna be honest, we’re heading into the fourth quarter here so I’m not sure what we’ll be able to do or how soon so for the time being you’ll have to keep working the sales floor.”

I don’t see why they can’t make the lateral move sooner. We’re hiring for the holidays. I’m sure they have a position open. Why not have me finish this week and next week, which I’m already scheduled for, and then put me in the stock room ‘just because’ while all this paperwork is being done to say I need to work back there because of my Autism? If this is going to take until January because they’re so busy with the holidays coming, I’ll have to leave my job.

Another Update (11/15/19): The good news is, they told me shortly after the above conversation that they heard back from the people above them and they said “We’re going to try to accommodate you the best we can.” The bad news is everything else. In this meeting, the same supervisor I’d talked to in the previous one, told me “We don’t have an actual stock team position. And [our manager] made that perfectly clear to you when she hired you and you disclosed your Misophonia, remember?” Why yes, she did, HOWEVER: that didn’t explain why they advertised an available stock team position which is what prompted me to apply in the first place, and it also doesn’t explain why there are certain people I never see working on the floor, but only ever in the stock room backstocking in the afternoons or evenings or receiving truck early in the morning (I only saw certain people the few times they had me do early morning sign changes last year).

But anyway, the supervisor kept insisting there is no stock team position and “since you’ve been here more than a year you should already know that,” but she was going to try to accommodate me as well as she could (funny they never asked for documentation of my Autism). She asked if I was willing to come in early in the morning a few times a week (3am) to receive truck, and I said yes, and she said they could train me to start doing omni, which is preparing customers’ orders and packing them and running around the store looking for things people have ordered. I’d be behind the scenes more, but still might get stopped by customers. At least I’d have a scanner on me, whereas a lot of our floor associates don’t get scanners because they’re all in use when they show up. Now I should note that after my first conversation with the supervisor I keep talking about, she paged me to call her, and I did, and she said, “Hey so would working at the registers be a better fit for you?” and I was like, “No... that’d... kinda be the opposite of what I need.” She said, “Okay. Just wanna make sure I ask for the right thing when I talk to the people above us about what accommodations you’re asking for.” Like was I not clear in our meetings that I need to be BEHIND the scenes? After that, I had to finish out my two weeks I was already scheduled for working the floor. They started having me do a little omni training in the middle of my floor shifts over the next couple weeks, but things were crazy because they kept asking me to back up registers while I was doing omni. Oh, and I still had my departments to worry about.

Then, on Monday 11/11/19, another supervisor, a guy, told me I’d be doing omni for my five hour shift that day. Yay! But then after one successful hour of omni, he put me on the registers for the rest of the day, and denied me a break multiple times when I asked because there was a line and apparently no one else to back up (and that’s weird, because normally floor associates back up the registers, not omni associates). I was 3.5 hours into my shift before I was allowed a break, and by then my stomach hurt pretty badly. And then I tried truck early in the morning, and while I felt like an absolute zombie afterwards, I really enjoyed it, because there were no bloodthirsty customers, you know? And the person in charge that day told me what a great job I did. The next truck went pretty well, too. But then today I had a 7.5 hour shift from 11:30am to 7pm, and yet another supervisor told me, “Hey so today you’re my go-to back up person for registers. When you’re not backing up, run 500s from customer service.” (500s are go-backs). I probably spent half of my shift if not more at those registers, including covering someone’s lunch which should have been 30 minutes long but wound up being an hour long with no explanation. Then, after my first break, when the supervisor I’d had the meetings with took over as the main supervisor for the day, she had me switch gears to running more 500s. I had a new scanner which I’m not familiar with so when I scanned the items, which didn’t seem to belong anywhere, I couldn’t see if they were clearance or not. They didn’t have clearance tickets, either. Many of them were still coming up in the scanner as costing quite a bit of money, and some were sweaters, so I tried to find places for them with signs that matched their price point or even with things that looked exactly like them. After making me back up at registers again, the supervisor called me over and she was standing with another associate and she said to me, “Hey, are you scanning 500s when you put them back?” I said, “Uh-huh. Why?” She looked me right in the eye and said, “Are you sure?” I said, “Yeah. Why?” She said, “Really?” I said, “Yeah.” She said, “How do you find where things go?” And I said, “I look for the same item, and if I don’t find any, I scan the item, look at the price, and try to find the right sign. And if I don’t find the right sign, I try to see if it’s clearance but I don’t know how to tell on the new scanners, so worst comes to worst, I put the item in the back of a fixture with something similar under a sign that has the same price point so customers don’t get ticked off at us.” She said, “Well everything you were putting back is clearance.” I could tell some of it was because of how cheap it was so I put some things in clearance, but for the other things I couldn’t tell. She told me to scan the item so I did, then she showed me where it says it’s clearance. On the old scanner, you swipe right twice and it’ll have a big colorful bubble where it tells you its status: blue for sale, purple for clearance, hot pink for a sale not advertised, you get the idea. But on this scanner, where it says if it’s clearance, it’s buried in a long list of teeny tiny unremarkable black letters with a white background, completely indistinguishable from anything else around it if you look too quickly, and it’s not two swipes to the right. It’s on the first page if you scroll down a bunch. Of course I didn’t see it when I’m used to things being big and colorful and two swipes to the right! But then my supervisor said, “Don’t lie to me.” I was shocked. “What?” She said, “I’m not having this conversation out here on the floor,” and she started to walk away from me and I was like, “I didn’t lie to you! I couldn’t see where it said if it was clearance or not because I’m not used to this scanner.” And she said, “I’m not gonna have this conversation with you out here. Just make sure when you scan something you put it back where it goes. I know some stuff looks similar, but this was all in the wrong spot. So go work on the fitting rooms.”

I cannot believe after a year of working there and showing nothing but honest character she would accuse me of lying to her face. I only made a mistake. It was rude and unprofessional of her to accuse me of something so base and then to try and shut me up by saying, “I’m not going to talk about this on the floor.” Well if she didn’t wanna talk about it on the floor, she shouldn’t have called me a liar on the floor. And in front of another associate, too! Also, I hate the new scanners.

Interesting that after our first meeting, she asked me if I would be better off at registers, and when I told her that was the worst place for me, they literally started putting me on registers almost non-stop. It’s like they’re trying to force me out. I wonder if that’s the reason they didn’t ask for my paperwork on my diagnosis... so if I get to the point where I quit (and I am close), and if I take them to court (which I’d love to do if I can), they can say, “Whaaaat? We didn’t force her out... Autism? She doesn’t even have any disability on record with us...”

Update (11/17/19): Hoooooo boy.

Okay. So since there are so many different supervisors and stuff I’m gonna start assigning fake names to everyone so it’s easier to tell them apart: manager: Staci supervisor I talk about most who’s giving me a hard time: Loretta supervisor who didn’t let me take a break: Kyle supervisor who wanted me to be the go-to backup cashier on Friday: Hugo supervisor who I initially disclosed to that told the other managers: Becky supervisor who runs truck unloading: Shawna This morning I had a truck unloading shift from 3-7am after only two hours of sleep (thank you cat), and there were tons of new people who don’t know the store or the brands or layout or who even know to sort petite and plus sizes from misses sizes, so Shawna was like constantly screaming at everyone like “HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU PEOPLE?! AM I YOUR BABYSITTER? WHAT ARE YOU DOING STANDING AROUND TALKING?!” Other associate: “I’m teaching the new people, Shawna!” It was annoying. Oh, and I had cramps and was dizzy. Extra fun.

Then at the end of my shift, I clocked out and went to find Loretta to talk to her 1. about how much they were making me do register backup, and 2. to ask for an apology for calling me a liar. So I found her out on the floor (we were still closed at this point) and asked her “Can I talk to you about some things?” And she was like, “Sure, what’s going on?” and I’d hoped to talk in the office but I was like, “Okay... well, you know how after our first conversation about accommodations you asked me over the phone if I’d do better on registers I said ‘No?’” She said, “Mm-hm.” I said, “Well... after working out the two weeks I was already scheduled for, of the shifts I’ve had while the store was open, I’ve been doing mostly register backup. And Monday I had a 12-5 shift which was supposed to be omni but after an hour I got put on registers and wasn’t allowed to take a break for...” and she was like, “Wasn’t allowed to, or you forgot to ask for it?” and I said, “Oh I asked, like two or three times.” And she said, “Who was the supervisor that day?” But like Kyle was nearby and so I just mouthed his name (his real name) and she was like, “What? D’you wanna talk in the office?” and I said, “Yeah, sure.” So she snags Hugo, who’s like, 2nd in command, to come with us and at my mother’s suggestion I pulled out my phone and said, “Can I record this conversation?” And Loretta said, “No, you cannot.” And I said, “Why not?” and she said, “Because you’re in the workplace.” I said, “...Yeah...?” She said, “It’s illegal.” I said, “Really?” she said, “Yes,” so I said “Okay...” and didn’t record. I looked it up when I got home. It’s totally legal. It’s just that in California both parties have to consent to the recording, which I figured, hence why I asked.

So I told her and Hugo what happened on Monday with working the registers for 4 hours and not being allowed a break and how much my stomach hurt by the time I was finally allowed to go on break, and I mentioned how normally it’s floor associates who get asked to back up and not omni and Loretta was like, “No Kristen, everyone backs up. You’ve been here a year. You should know that.” Okay but when things are busy though, normally floor associates are the first ones they call up. I was the first one. Hugo explained that that day there were fewer online orders coming in than they anticipated, so they had to reshuffle us a bit. Well and good. I wish they’d made someone else do registers, though.

Then I talked to them about how Hugo and then Loretta had me back up at registers a lot on Friday. So Hugo was like, “So you did tell Loretta though you’d be willing to back up occasionally, right?” and I said, “Yeah I mean if things are totally nuts I don’t wanna leave you guys high and dry but being the go-to backup person is like... too much.”

So Hugo tried to get me to get it “set in stone,” how much I should back up, and I explained how that’s a little tricky with the anxiety I have because of my Autism, but we agreed 20 minutes for every hour and a half, or basically just having me cover people’s 15 minute breaks plus the time it takes them to walk to and from the break room. He was trying to work with me, which was great, but I felt like he was trying to see how much he could get me to work at the registers instead of how little. At the same time, we did basically set a cap on how much I could handle, so that’s something.

Then he asked, “Do you have any other concerns?” and I said, “Yeah, I wanted to talk to Loretta about a conversation we had on Friday...” and Loretta was like, “I don’t remember talking to you on Friday.” Convenient. But she would. I kinda hinted I wanted to talk to her privately and Hugo offered to leave but Loretta was like, “It’s okay. He’s management, too. Anything you can say to me you can say in front of him.” Well alright then, if she insisted...

So I reminded her that she started having me run 500s, and how after making me back up at registers she called me over and asked me if I was scanning things before putting them back like three times in a row and then she went, “Yeah and I remember asking you to be honest with me, because...” and I said, with Hugo as my witness, “No. Your exact words were, ‘Don’t lie to me.’ I have worked here for over a year and I have never once lied to you or anyone else here. I don’t know if maybe you’ve been lied to a lot by other associates, but I don’t do that. I’m unfamiliar with the new scanners and that’s why I didn’t see where it said it was clearance, because on the old ones it’s two swipes to the right and then it shows up in a big color-coded bubble what the item’s status is, and it’s not buried in a long list of tiny black letters on a white background on the bottom of the first page like on the new ones. It wasn’t right to accuse me of something so base as to lie to you in front of another associate, and then to walk away and say, ‘I’m not having this conversation with you out here on the floor.’ If you didn’t want to have this conversation out on the floor, you should not have accused me of lying to you out on the floor. I went into the fitting room after that and couldn’t stop crying.”

As I expected, she blame shifted back to me saying from her perspective, since it said on the scanner it was clearance, of course she thought I wasn’t being honest with her. And she said if I’m going to make mistakes, then as a supervisor, she is going to coach me. Ummm yeah, coaching doesn’t involve attacks on someone’s character. And defending herself by saying well if I hadn’t blah blah blah, that’s a tactic I used to use with my parents when I was twelve! I wanted to tell her what my parents used to tell me: This isn’t about me, this is about you.

But I said, “And after you showed me on the new scanner where it said it was clearance, I corrected my behavior. I made sure to be careful and check every item. So that’s done. That’s taken care of. But you still shouldn’t have accused me of lying to you.”

And then she was like, “I’m sorry you feel like I was accusing you of lying, but you have to understand that if you’re doing your job incorrectly, it’s my job to...” and more rot about her “coaching.” Okay so first she says to me that from her perspective of course she thought I was lying, and then she says, “I’m sorry you feel like I was calling you a liar, but...?” Like, no. She can’t have it both ways like that. And that was no apology. “I’m sorry you feel,” is how narcissists try to manipulate and pacify their victims, and it does not work on me.

Nevertheless she refused to apologize to me AND was then like, “But why couldn’t you see it says it’s clearance?” I said, “Because I’m used to the old scanners,” and she said, “Didn’t you look at all? What’s the difference?” So I had to explain to her, AGAIN, how I’m used to the color-coded bubbles and how it was in a different spot and I couldn’t see the “Status: Clearance,” when it was buried in a list. “Everything was the same font. Nothing was bolded, italicized, underlined, or distinguishable from anything around it in any way, and it was on a different page than I expected, so of course I didn’t see it.” I need colors. I need different things to look different. That’s how my brain works.

By the end of the conversation, Loretta was still refusing to apologize to me (and she’s developed a twitch by her mouth) and Hugo was saying how he’s sorry that happened to me and he certainly doesn’t want me to be crying in the fitting rooms. “We want everyone to be happy when they’re here.” He’s sweet but he wants the impossible. This company consistently gives stores a limited budget for scheduling so we are always understaffed. We’re the biggest store of our chain of stores in the area and we still only have two cashiers working at a time (one at the men’s side registers and one at misses’) and 1 associate for every 2-4 departments. Even at Christmastime, they increase the number of cashiers, but not floor associates. It’s insane.

So anyway I’ve decided to quit, but now the question is when. Because since Hugo has put in the effort to work with me and set a cap on my register time, it seems like it’d be in bad taste for me to leave now. And while working out a two weeks notice is common courtesy, I looked it up and it’s advised if I’m being abused or if I feel unsafe or if the job is detrimental to my physical or mental health (and by golly it’s taking its toll), then I can quit without notice, so long as I’m aware it may leave a bad taste in their mouths.

But I feel like I should at least see if they stick to their 20 minute backup deal, because if they don’t, and if I can take them to court later for failure to accommodate my “disability,” as well as my religious practices, I’d need a solid case, and a judge will want to see I did everything I could from my side. But man, I hope I can leave before Black Friday. Apparently working omni on Black Friday is a nightmare because orders get cancelled and then angry customers call to yell at omni on the phone and with my Autism I have phone anxiety just talking to nice people, much less customers who want me dead.

Update 12-15-19

So Black Friday wasn’t the nightmare I thought it’d be. And working omni and truck hasn’t been so bad, except for the weird sleep schedule.

But this month, they started cutting my hours instead of giving me more. Last year at this time, I was working 35 hours per week. This year? 12 hours the week of Dec 8th-14th 8 hours for Dec 15th-21st and next week, the week of Christmas: 4 hours.

FOUR FLIPPING HOURS THE WEEK OF CHRISTMAS and it’s RETAIL!

And they don’t even have me doing omni anymore. Just truck. I couldn’t have been that bad at omni! What the actual living heck?!

#personal post #trigger warning #autism #asperger's syndrome #discrimination in the workplace #misophonia

80 notes · View notes

lia-jones · 4 years

Text

Growing Pains - Chapter Twenty One - Judgement Day

“Are you ready?” I heard my mother’s voice behind me. I looked at my desk. I had my flash drive, my laptop and five copies of my essay. Yes, I was ready. However, I felt far from ready.

“Yes, as much as I can be.” I sighed, offering my mom a smile, to show some confidence.

“We’re just waiting for your brother to come with Cristina, he won’t be long.” My mom offered.

“It’s ok, we have time.” I said, reaching for my phone to check for any texts.

“Andy.” My mom said in a flat tone.

“Yes?” I looked up.

“Are you expecting any calls?” She smiled slyly, like she was on to something.

“No.” I lied. Victor was also traveling on business, and told me he would call before my presentation. I was in Portugal for a week now, to make the last arrangements with my advisor before actually presenting and defending my thesis, and I was starting to miss him badly. Between his busy schedule and the difference between time zones, we barely talked at all.

I sat on my bed, lost in thought, not even noticing my mother leaving my room. My thoughts drifted to the memories of everything I had been through that had culminated to this very moment. The verbal and physical abuse, my strong will to overcome it, dealing with the severe physical injuries.

Don’t be silly, you’ll be overworking yourself for nothing, I heard Daniel’s voice in my head, sounding condescending as much as it sounded loving. You can’t work and study, you don’t have that kind of focus. Besides, why do you need it anyway? Aren’t you happy with things as they are, with me?

I took the green notebook from my desk and read the very words that I wrote in it, in red, filled with anger and resentment. My eyes filled with tears, as my heart grew in realization. Finally, I understood what my therapist was talking about when she said I would be thankful later on. I wasn’t exactly thankful for what Daniel had done to me, and I knew some scars wouldn’t really go away, but… I was ok with it. I could feel myself steady on my feet again, and I did learn a lot about myself. I learned that I was stronger than I thought, and that I could endure a lot, and that if I really put my mind to it, I could do things that I couldn’t possibly imagine before. I learned that even those who look aloof can hold a great deal of love in their hearts, and take me in without any kind of judgment especially. I learned to fully cherish those who love me, and to sift through the bad to find the good. I learned that I could love again, even deeper, even stronger.

And yes, for that I was grateful. I was so grateful that my heart couldn’t contain it all inside, and some of it spilled, making my eyes water, the tears staining the red letters in my notebook.

That’s when the phone rang. And when I saw Victor’s picture on my phone, I couldn’t contain a sob. God, I was so grateful for him. I took my time to answer, as I composed myself.

“Hello, handsome.” I said cheerfully, trying to sound as normal as possible.

“Have you been crying?” He asked, worriedly. “What’s the matter?”

“No, everything is fine.” I laughed. “It’s been an emotional day, that’s all.”

“I understand.” He sounded relieved. “It’s a big day.” Victor paused. “I wish I could be there with you.”

I sighed.

“I wish you could be here too.” I said softly, hoping he wouldn’t notice in my voice the tears falling from my eyes. “But it’s ok, next week we’ll be together, and we can celebrate. No matter the outcome. I feel like a winner just coming this far.”

“You will do fine. I read your essay, I know how good it is. Just be yourself and you’ll do great.”

“Right, because if it has Mr. CEO’s approval, it’s nothing short of outstanding, right?” I teased.

“Exactly.” He bantered back. “I doubt you know anyone more demanding than me.” His voice softened almost to a whisper. “Don’t be nervous, ok?”

I heard my brother downstairs calling for me.

“I have to leave now. Wish me luck.” I said, feeling butterflies in my stomach.

“You don’t need it. Call me when you’re done.”

“Ok, I’ll talk to you later then. I love you.”

“One more thing.” Victor spoke again before I could hang up.

“Yes?”

“I’m proud of you. And I love you too.”

I arrived at the auditorium with a feeling of dread, glancing at the huge sitting area, and at the table in front of it, where the people deciding my fate would sit. One of them was Professor Chancey Williamson, a renowned teacher at the University of Cambridge. I had heard he was overbearing and plain rude, making many people leave their own presentation in tears. I tried to remind myself that he couldn’t possibly be any worse than Victor. That didn’t bring peace to my heart though.

My family sat in the auditorium, as I was led to a separate room to prepare with the rest of the students. I read my essay one last time, trying to remember how to defend all the key points in my PowerPoint presentation. I decided to put it away, as I felt fully prepared, and just focus on my breathing.

I got up as I heard my name, taking deep breaths as I walked in. Momentarily turning my back to the audience, I plugged in my computer to the projector, opening the file with my presentation. I then turned to the teachers.

“Good morning.” I started. “Before I start presenting my thesis, I would like to thank the esteemed teachers for giving me the great honor of sharing my work with you, specially to Professor Williamson, who came all this way from…” My eyes scanned the room briefly, and stopped at one specific point. “… Cambridge.”

I couldn’t believe my eyes. Among the crowd, almost unnoticed if not for his impeccable suit and elegant posture, I could see… Victor. He had come to see me defend my work. I paused for a second, smiling widely at him, my heart beating fast as he smiled back. The room started fading around him. Remembering where I was and what was at stake, I cleared my throat, gathered my thoughts, and focused on my task.

“I would also like to thank Mr. Victor Lee, the CEO of Loveland Financial Group, where I had my internship, for coming all this way from Loveland. Your presence is deeply appreciated.”

Every head in the auditorium turned to look at him and he simply nodded in acknowledgment, not wanting to take my spotlight.

Seeing Victor there brought a spring in my step, and I felt confident as I presented my work. There was nothing to be scared of. I had worked really hard to get there, and my work would show that. I had done my best, and even if that wasn’t enough, it was all that mattered.

Professor Williamson had all sorts of questions, some relevant and some seemingly idiotic, designed to test my knowledge of the matter. From all the members of the jury, he was the one talking the most. And people were not lying when they said he was rude. He kept interrupting me, breaking my line of thought, and for more than once he implied I had plagiarized or that I wasn’t the sole author of my essay. On other occasions he would just ask silly questions, trying to make me trip. I managed to address his questions in a satisfactory manner, even the silly ones, but the way he was pressuring me made me feel more and more insecure.

Finishing my presentation, I asked if there were any more questions. Naturally, Professor Williamson chimed in.

“Yes, one last thing, Miss Jones.” He turned to the technical team that was taking care of the sound. “Can someone provide a microphone to Mr. Lee, so we all can hear him?”

I felt my cheeks burning as an assistant gave Victor a microphone. My mother gestured for me to calm down, but I knew she was also apprehensive.

“Mr. Lee, I understand it is unconventional to include the sponsor company in a thesis evaluation. I hope you don’t mind answering some questions.” Professor Williamson spoke to Victor.

“Not at all.” Victor spoke in his CEO voice.

“Mr. Lee, who supervised Miss Jones’ progress during her internship?”

“I was her supervisor.”

“And how do you assess Miss Jones’ work in your company, regarding her interaction with the three French companies she mentions in her thesis, as well as her performance in general at LFG?”

“Miss Jones’ performance was impeccable, to say the least. The French partners were very pleased with the cooperation and expressed their disappointment in seeing it end. I must also point out that recently LFG experienced a very sensitive setback, and I personally chose Miss Jones to aid in its resolution. Her insightfulness and quick thinking were paramount in solving said issue. Should she be interested, it is in LFG’s best interest to hire her.”

My family was dumbfounded at his statement, their mouths hanging open in surprise. During the first months of my internship, I had spoken of Victor to my family, and… I didn’t paint a very pretty picture. They perceived him like I did at first, overbearing, rude and entitled. It was obviously a shock to see him give praise so openly.

Professor Williamson looked at Victor with suspicious eyes, and dismissed the audience and myself, asking me to wait outside while the jury deliberated.

I walked out of the auditorium not knowing how to feel. I was immediately surrounded by my family.

“That professor was a jerk!” My brother gritted through his teeth. “For what it’s worth, I think you did great, Tiny.”

“It’s supposed to be like this.” My mother tried to calm everyone. “This is a very big deal. Of course they will test her.” She turned to me. “You did very well, Andy. You stood your ground. And the way your boss complimented your work… Impressive.” She raised an eyebrow at me.

“I’m a bit surprised myself…” I said, and then I noticed Victor leaving the auditorium. “I’ll be right back.”

I stood in front of Victor, not knowing how to act. I knew my family was watching us closely, and I also knew that Victor wasn’t very fond of public displays of affection. Victor seemed to be sharing the awkwardness for a moment, deciding to take my hand, squeezing it gently.

“You’re here.” I whispered, smiling at him.

“This is your big day. I feel slightly offended that you think I would miss it.” Victor raised an eyebrow at me.

“Thank you for speaking so highly of me. I hate it that he put you on the spot like that.” I made a face.

“Well, that could have been easily avoided if you hadn’t introduced me to the whole auditorium.” He offered. “But I don’t mind, I’m used to it.”

“Oh my God, I did, didn’t I?” I gasped slightly. “Sorry about that.”

“Like I said, I don’t mind.”

“Oh God, it gets worse.” I said, the stress from the presentation fading away and bringing my focus to obvious matters. “My family will want to meet you.”

“Good. I want to meet them too.” Victor touched the small of my back as he followed me.

“Mom. Dad.” I said, interrupting their conversation about the presentation. “This is Victor, my-”

“Andy, please, we all know who he is.” My father interrupted, oblivious to the real meaning of the situation. “Jeremy Jones. Thanks for supporting our girl. This is my wife, Mariana, my son Joshua and his wife, Cristina.”

“Nice to meet you all.” Victor said, shaking everybody’s hands.

“Will you be waiting for the results with us, or do you have a busy schedule today?” My mom asked.

“I’d like to wait, if I’m not imposing.” Victor wore his usual expressionless face, but I could tell he was getting uncomfortable.

“Oh, Mr. Lee, not at all.” My mom offered. “I actually want to invite you to come have lunch with us, if you are available. There will be plenty of Portuguese food, if you hadn’t had the time to try the Portuguese cuisine. It’s the least we can do for you, since you came all this way to support our daughter.”

“Thank you for the kind offer. It would be a pleasure. And call me Victor.” Although his discomfort was still very palpable to me, I could see Victor was making a (HUGE) effort to open up a bit, which was uncharacteristic of him. And then it dawned on me. He was trying to please my family. My heart melted, seeing him trying so hard to connect to my people.

I heard my name, and went in to get my grade. When I returned to my family, they all gathered around me, waiting for me to speak. Problem was, I found myself incapable of uttering a single word. I just felt like crying. Victor stood behind them, his eyes trained on me, a trace of worry on his face.

“Tiny…” My brother came and gave me a hug.

“No, no, don’t assume.” My father pushed Josh away, and took me to sit on the bench, kneeling in front of me. “Andy, what did they say?” He said, leaning towards me to hear me, since my voice decided to stop working. I mouthed my response the best I could, tears now falling freely from my eyes. “You got a what? Say it again, baby.”

It was so hard for me to talk, sobs wracking my body. But I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down a bit, and managed to answer with a slightly more audible tone. My mother caught it before my father could.

“Wait, twenty?” She paused, not believing what she heard. “Summa cum laude?!?!?” She cried, a lot louder than her usual calm tone.

All the other students waiting for their grades started clapping. My whole family came and hugged me, as I cried my heart out. I had done it. I had worked so hard, I had given it my all, and it paid off. I remembered Daniel’s words, and I realized how much of what he had told me was still so present in my mind, making me doubt myself. Until that day. I knew he was wrong. I had proven him wrong. And that felt better than any praise or honor. My mother must have thought the same thing, because tears rolled silently from her eyes too.

Suddenly, I remembered Victor, raising my head to see him. He was behind us, watching our family moment, his eyes filled with emotion. And the gratitude in my heart grew. He got me steady enough to achieve this, with his tough love, his patience and also his concealed tenderness. He gave me every opportunity to grow and to heal, and gave me all the love in his heart. Maybe he wasn’t the most expressive of people, but he sure was the kindest, always supporting me and cheering for me in the background.

I got up and went to him, only able to mouth a thank you before embracing him. He held me in his arms, stroking my back, his face in my hair.

“I am so proud of you.” He whispered in my ear, his voice thick. “Congratulations.”

He hugged me so tightly I thought he was going to crack my ribs. We held on to each other for a long time, until my sobs subsided and I relaxed, as I listened to his strong heartbeat.

We finally let go, holding hands, a wide happy smile on our faces. When I turned, I noticed my family was watching us, eyes wide, mouth hanging. Except for my mom, who wore her characteristic knowing smile.

#Growing Pains - Series #growingpains #mlqc victor #victor x oc #mlqc li zeyan #mlqc fanfic #mister love queens choice #love and producer

3 notes · View notes

7-wonders · 6 years

Text

Shatter pt. 4

Summary: Eighteen months after the end of the world, and you’re somehow still alive. All of this newfound free time you have gives you plenty of time to ponder the question: who the hell are you?

Word count: 2080

A/N: It’s me, back with part four! Took me a little while but I finally did it. As always, special thanks to @jimmlangdon for all of their help with this series.

Read Part One HERE | Read Part Two HERE | Read Part Three HERE

Sleep is abruptly ripped away from you by the slamming of a door and a hand shaking your shoulder. You sit up, blearily blinking your eyes and attempting to discern where you are. Your neck aches painfully, and you realize that you must have fallen asleep leaning against Mallory. The witch beside you looks just as confused as you are, especially when faced with a grim Supreme.

“Follow me, girls.” You and Mallory look at each other in bemusement, both reluctantly standing to head back into the little shack. Early sunlight starts to make its way over the horizon, a faint glow lighting the bayou ahead of you. It’s peaceful, almost too peaceful considering the events of the past few weeks. Your eyes burn after all the tears shed last night, and you’re mildly disappointed that your new Sight didn’t give you anymore glimpses of Michael.

You know that you shouldn’t be sad that you didn’t see your former lover. You fought tooth-and-nail to escape him, and you should be happy that you’re now safe. But you can’t help the pangs of sadness that come with not seeing his sweet smile and his crystal blue eyes. When you first woke up moments ago, you had hoped that the hand waking you would belong to Michael. The visions of the rising Antichrist are shattered when you pass through the door and are blindsided.

It’s a coordinated attack, you can tell from the multiple witches trying to pin you to the ground and Mallory’s screams as the same happens to her. The uneven wood digs into your back, making you grimace while your hands are held above your head and your legs grow heavy. Myrtle Snow smiles at you apologetically, red hair coming into view and gloved hands making sure you don’t go anywhere.

“Miss Cordelia? What…?” You’re being assaulted, both mentally and physically, and are slow at processing your current situation as a result. The Supreme’s blonde hair is slightly mussed, and you realize that the head you had yanked in your fight to get away had been hers.

“Your allegiances, while not your fault, are still fractured. On the one hand, your mind wants to be with us, your sisters. On the other, your heart is still with Michael. Even before Michael’s mind had been made up that he would get you back, we had known of his plans for the apocalypse. You and Mallory are both extremely powerful young women, so if you were to be buried underground with us to survive the initial blasts, your magic would act as a beacon to forces that want to do us harm.”

“I don’t understand!” Mallory cries from next to you. You glance over at her to see tears tracking down her face as she shakes in terror. Your hand creeps across the floor and intertwines with hers, squeezing in reassurement.

“Coco has already made the sacrifice, and had her mind wiped as a result. Her wealth will ensure that all of you safely reach the Outposts that are being built for survivors. Your powers, along with your memories, will lay dormant until the time is right. As a result, (Y/N), Michael will not be able to use your bond to his advantage, since you won’t have memories of him to even have a bond.” It’s your turn to start crying, shaking your head back and forth desperately.

“No, please. You can’t do this! I don’t want to forget him, I can’t forget him!” You whimper. Cordelia smiles at you sympathetically, and you want to reach up and slap her across the face.

“I promise that you’ll feel differently when you get your memories back. You’re going to be saving all of humanity with this sacrifice.”

“I’ll never forgive you for this. You’re taking who I am away from me against my will! I don’t care if this will save humanity, you shouldn’t be allowed to do this.” You hiss, eyes steeling in a glare. Before you can continue with your verbal torrent, Cordelia produces a translucent powder. You start struggling in one last attempt at an escape, but your efforts are fruitless. The powder gets blown into your face, and your coughing draws it into your lungs. Before you black out, there’s only one word on your lips.

“Michael.”

30 months later…

The harsh knocking on your door acts as your alarm clock today, just as it has everyday for the past eighteen months. You jolt up, sheets tangled around your legs and bunched at the bottom of the bed. Running a hand through your messy hair, you listen as the Gray makes their way down the hallway, providing a wakeup call for your fellow occupants. Hell, better known as Outpost 3, had been your home for just over a year. The period of time directly before the bombs fell had been a flurry of events, involving gathering your few belongings and escaping with your boss to a private jet owned by Coco St. Pierre-Vanderbilt.

“Coco! Coco wait!” Mr. Gallant yelled, hopping out of the convertible and jogging towards the jet. You stay behind to grab all of his things and help his grandmother, Evie, out of the car.

“Gallant? What the hell are you doing here?” Coco squawked.

“You said there were enough tickets for your family and your husband. That’s five tickets, and only two of them are being used.” He explained excitedly.

“Your assistant can’t come, Brock should be here at any moment!” You had huffed at being called Gallant’s ‘assistant.’ You were basically his sister, but there wasn’t any time to call the socialite out when Coco’s assistant screamed a warning. Runway workers were rapidly advancing in a hope to grab a spot and survive nuclear annihilation.

“Coco, I’m not leaving without (Y/N).” Gallant affirmed, making your heart warm at his effort to save your life. Coco thought for a moment, finally rolling her eyes and nodding.

“Fine, but we need to go like, NOW!”

The jet had barely made it to cruising altitude before the bombs dropped, and you couldn’t help but to thank your lucky stars every single day. Even living in the strictest, most-backwards living conditions was better than how you were living for a while before the end of the world.

You didn’t know who you were. You had amnesia, whether it be from an injury or some sort of coping mechanism, but the facts remained the same; you had woken up in an apartment that you didn’t own, with no memory except for your name and a friend who could help you. That friend was Mr. Gallant, who quickly took you in and gave you so many things, the least of those being a job. He was a shoulder to cry on when you were frustrated about your lack of memories, your ‘boyfriend’ when weird guys were hitting on you, your therapist when you needed to vent, and your best friend. Technically being his assistant, you had been expecting to be a Gray along with Coco’s assistant, Mallory. To your shock, your name was on a list guaranteeing that you receive a spot on the highest tier of this new society. The purple dress you slip on as you get ready acts as a reminder that you’re probably the luckiest person left alive.

“Welcome to another beautiful day underground.” Gallant greets you with a snicker when you enter the dining room, handing you a glass of water and patting the chair next to you. Somehow, even after all this time, you had still managed to remain best friends with the man.

“Did I hear something about horseback riding on the schedule today?” You joke, earning a few laughs from the Purples scattered through the room.

“I mean this is the nicest way, (Y/N), but you look like shit.”

“Thank you, it’s this new beauty routine I’m trying.” You say sarcastically, rolling your eyes. Gallant sighs, grabbing your hand in his.

“Did you have the dream again?” ‘The dream,’ or what should be known as dreams, have plagued you since the day you woke up in the unfamiliar apartment in the middle of Los Angeles. Sometimes they involved beautiful women, all dressed in black and smiling at you. Other times there was a swamp, the muggy air enveloping your subconscious and chirping echoing from within the ecosystem. There were also a few dreams that left you crying and shaking, dreams filled with screaming, blood, and gunfire. The most common dreams, though, all revolved around a man.

You dreamed of this man almost every time you fell asleep, yet you couldn’t ever clearly see his face. You knew that he was tall and had beautiful blond curls that tickled your face when he leaned down to kiss you. You were always touching this man in some way or another, usually just holding hands as you relive what you assume are your lost memories. Sometimes, his face would clear just long enough for you to see his haunting eyes, which are the clearest shade of blue you’ve ever seen. You get so lost in reminiscing on your dream that you don’t realize you haven’t yet answered Gallant until he calls your name again.

“Of course, I always do.” You respond.

“Which one was it? The gun one?”

“It was the one with the man.” Gallant knew about all your dreams, and had listened to you attempt to dissect them for countless hours.

“I love your hot mystery man.” He says playfully, grinning.

“Apparently I did, too. Too bad I don’t know who he actually is.” The gelatinous cubes, your only source of nutrition for over a year, lay untouched on your respective plates.

“You’ve been having the dream with your blue-eyed honey a lot more often, lately. Maybe that means something?” He suggests, picking up his fork and absently spinning it in his hand. You shrug, considering it.

“Maybe. Or maybe-” The shrill sound of an alarm startles you, and your hands clap against your ears for protection. Ms. Mead walks quickly to the dining room, staring at the gathered survivors.

“Security breach. Back to your rooms, all of you.” She says sternly, watching as everyone stands immediately. You follow the herd, but your thoughts remain on what Ms. Mead just said. A security breach? For the duration of your time here, nothing had ever gotten through the walls surrounding the Outpost. You don’t know whether to be intrigued or scared at this.

“Think it’s cannibals?” Gallant whispers into your ear, snapping his teeth to make you jump.

“Don’t be so morbid, Gal, Jesus.” You mutter. He wants to retort, but you’re all shepherded to your rooms and given strict orders to remain there until further instruction.

The hours until you’re summoned out pass slowly, and you find yourself trying to sleep in order to pass the time. You’re also hoping that you see those familiar blue eyes again, but are disheartened when you’re told to gather in the library before you can dream. Coco’s already sitting next to Gallant, talking his ear off about god-knows-what, and Evie sits on his other side. You take the only open seat left, next to Timothy. He smiles at you when you join him, Emily holding holding his hand tightly.

“Any clue what this is about?” You ask.

“Maybe they’re finally gonna take us out.” Emily suggests, wiggling her eyebrows to make you both giggle.

“We should be so lucky.” Your banter is interrupted when Ms. Venable, the leader of the Outpost, enters the room. She stands at the head of the room, eyes cast towards the door the entire time. When she still hasn’t spoken in two minutes, you sigh and start picking at your nails to give yourself something to do. Heels clacking against the floor fill the room, but you assume it’s The Hand joining the group after finishing their rounds. You only look up when Timothy nudges you slightly.

Immediately, your eyes widen at the sight you’re faced with. It’s not The Hand. Instead, a tall man, dressed to the nines, with long blond hair and startling blue eyes, commands the room with only his presence. Everybody stares at him in varying degrees of lust and attraction, but you stare at him for a different reason; you know this man. You’re not sure how, or from where, but you know him.

“My name is Langdon, and I represent the Cooperative.”

Tag list: @queencocoakimmie @nana15774 @lichellaw @sammythankyou @sebastianshoe @pastel-cloudz @ultragibbycentralworld @grim-adventures58 @let-me-try-mom @uptosomeseriousfuckshit @dandycandy75 @trimbooohgodplsnoooo @alexcornerblog @everything-is-awesomesauce @tickled--pinkmoodpoisoning @ccodyfern @dolceandchalamet

#michael langdon #michael langdon imagine #michael langdon x reader #ahs #michael langdon imagines #ahs apocalypse #ahs imagine #american horror story #american horror story imagine #american horror story apocalypse

228 notes · View notes

yeongwonhi-nuna · 6 years

Text

Toxic Relationships

This is gonna be a long post so I’m putting it under the cut.

To put things in perspective, I've been working in the finance office of a charity for the past 2 years and I just finished up in preparation for moving to Korea next week. There were usually only 3 people in my office. Myself (I was job sharing with another colleague), the top boss of finance and the deputy boss. Since I’ve been there, the top boss of the office has changed 3 times and Deputy has been working there for 17 years.

I don't have a finance background so I was totally out my depth when I started (I had originally applied for a different position but ended up being placed in this office to help out as the top boss had recently left and they needed extra bodies) and here's where my toxic relationship began. I was thrown into the deep end and for three days, no one in the office spoke to me other than to say "photocopy this" "get me this" or things like that, but I was somehow expected to know the rules and regulations around handling donations and money and processing invoices. The processes are very complicated and involve multiple departments of the charity and computer systems which I had never even heard of before but no one trained me in what to do. I asked several times to be shown what to do as I’m not the type to just sit around doing nothing, only to be met with sneers and condensation. I learned through trial and error, which meant that I made a lot of mistakes along the way.

After around 3 weeks, the deputy told me that I wasn't wanted or welcomed in the job because she wanted to give the job to her friend's daughter instead and the woman I was job sharing felt the same, but had been overruled by the top boss in the office (Who was hardly ever there and then quit 2 months later only to be replaced with the previous boss who had worked there for years and was only back part time so he didn’t care about how I was being treated.)

Over the following couple of months I tried my hardest to learn everything I could (bear in mind that I was only working part time as I was attending uni) I took notes and tried to learn everything and slowly became good at my job. Now I'm not saying that I wanted praise at every step, but that would have been better than either being ignored, or being critiqued for being slower than the woman whom I was job sharing with who has been working in finance for nearly 10 years.

Eventually the outright hostility calmed down a little and there were times when the deputy became chatty and almost friendly, but I soon learned that she was only like that when she wanted something from me, like to use my student discount card to buy things or to do her errands for her because she couldn’t be bothered to do them after work. But these friendly moments never lasted and eventually I became used to being screamed and swore at. She called me things that I will not type here, but just use your imagination and you’ll be halfway there.

I contacted the HR department who said, and I quote “That’s just the way she is.” and didn’t do anything about it. It was a well-known fact that she was a nightmare, but the things that were happening made the bad bosses in Korean dramas look like nothing.

I tried applying for other jobs, but my schedule with uni really made it difficult. I can’t count how many times I left work in floods of tears. She would belittle and find fault in everything I did, even if she had caused the mistake. An example of this is she handed me a folder and told me to take it to another department. I did so and someone from that department brought it down later and said that it wasn't theirs, it was for another department. So deputy proceeded to blame me for the error, despite the fact that I had simply followed her instructions.

This woman was so vile that almost every Sunday, the thought of going into work gave me stomach cramps and I've had more anxiety attacks because of her than I should ever have had to suffer through.

What she has done to me is abuse. She humiliated me, manipulated me and threatened my job security for 2 years. It was wrong. It was painful.

She was seriously impacting my mental health.

Now I have to point out that I didn't always take her abuse. I argued back. I would get pushed so far and would fight back (verbally) and she would back off for a week or so then the cycle would start all over again.

I could write an entire novel on my experiences in that office over the past two years, but I’m gonna leave out the details.

I had my last shift there last week and had an exit interview with the same HR woman who hadn’t helped me before. It was supposed to last ten minutes but we were in there for an hour and a half. She apologised to me almost a dozen times.

But what I really want to say is... I don’t hate deputy. If I’m perfectly honest. I just feel sorry for her.

I’m now ten times more resilient.

My ability to reign in my temper has improved dramatically.

I know that deep in my heart that all of her negativity is a poison, but I have the antidote. I’ve managed to free myself from her clutches and I already feel like I can breathe more easily. I will not allow her to have any more room in my head.

I’m about to embark on my dream and I won’t take her negativity with me. I know that my life will be much happier than hers because I won’t hold onto those horrible times. I’m focusing on the positives.

I met some wonderful people whilst working there. I know that the work I did contributed to a fantastic cause. I had the funds to get through uni and to prepare myself for moving to Korea.

So if there’s any point to all of this, it’s that although you may be going through hell. Even though it might feel like there is no end in sight.

Keep fighting.

Everything comes to an end eventually, but you’ll never get there if you give up. Keep fighting even when you don’t think you’ve got the energy to do so. Sometimes you can lean on others, but some parts you’ll need to fight on your own.

Don’t let a toxic relationship destroy or dictate who you are. Keep smiling, it kills the toxic people in your life when they see that you can still smile despite their best efforts.

#feels good to get this off my chest #keep fighting #looking forward #positivity #positive vibes #toxic relationships #feelings #life #personal

8 notes · View notes

myprincecandy · 6 years

Text

[ENG] 20190123 SinaEnt/Yuqing Lab interview with ZTAO

[ENG] 20190123 SinaEnt/Yuqing Lab interview with #ZTAO

Link to original: https://goo.gl/Fy2GGN

Huang Zitao: Don’t be too cocky in front of me, newbies! You’re “dead” if I catch you!

Today, I went to have a chat with Huang Zitao

Friends, have you ever accidentally unliked or unfriended your idol because he changed his social media account id?

That has happened to Huang Zitao’s fans.

Recently, Huang Zitao, in conjunction with his upcoming new drama, changed his weibo ID to “Chong Liming is coming”, something that would definitely confused people who don’t follow him (Chong Liming is the character he’s playing)

Paired with that anime avatar, if you’re not a fan, who could tell that this is a star???

Since Huang Zitao changed his id to “Chong Liming is coming” before the drama Yan Shi Fan is due to air.. does that mean that, after it airs, it will change to ““Chong Liming is now here”, “Chong Liming is leaving”, ““Chong Liming goodbye”…. Does he know that even for paying members, you can only change your weibo ID 5 times in a year?

“Why don’t you ask him directly” says my boss, showing up behind me, with a glass of tea in hand.

“eh? My hand shook, and then as destiny would have it, I got the assignment to go to the press conference for Yan Shi Fan.1 minute before it struck one on 22nd Jan 2019, I made my way through loads of floral displays from fans to go meet Taotao. I’ll remember this minute because of the strange mixture of smells from the roses and the packed lunches by the side.

We’ve only just finished setting up the machines when Huang Zitao arrived in a hurry, saying “ah I’m so sorry”, while commenting to me about lunch being too spicy. Then he went asking for water from his staff. Your Tao is still so very interesting and cute.

After sitting down, Tao suddenly stood up again, saying that he wishes to see how his new hairstyle looks. He says that since it’s new, he doesn’t know whether it looks good on camera.

After checking the photograph, he said he’s pretty satisfied with it, and would give his hairstyle, “6-7 points I guess~”

“Didn’t you say you’re pretty satisfied? That’s only a passing score?”

“well it’s for the camera, so it’ll be perfect if I was thinner.” As he said that, he kneaded/pinched his chin.

Sparring verbally with me and then with himself

The new hairstyle is to refresh himself, give himself a new start in the new year. Taotao says that it doesn’t matter if it looks good or not. Him checking the camera is also because he had “rested for slightly more than half a month, and didn’t do much except eat every day.” So he feared that he would look fat in front of the cameras, after all, he still has to be scrutinized by the rest of the world.

“If I were thinner, and my chin was sharper, it would be perfect.” .

Speaking of sharp chins, that reminds me of the much treasured bout of happiness brought about the many videos of Huang Zitao’s Little Elf.

I told him that many folks are waiting for updates to that Little Elf series, so when is he intending to do an update to satisfy the fans?

Adorable as he is, Taotao refused, saying, “if you all feel that that is good, that watch the old stuff. I won’t do it again simply because it got popular after you all watched it. I won’t! He says he is not willing to just simply following what is trending/popular, not even if he is the one who started it!

Fine, Boss Huang is really very strict.

I quietly rebutted, “You previously said that Little Elf is ugly, but yet your actions say otherwise!”

Taotao explained that he was really letting go of himself when talking that way, “you have to know that when I’m recording that, the sound and my expressions are all especially…tsk.. ah! You won’t want to see how I actually look like when recording Little Elf. “

We all know that this year, all the male idol audition variety shows will be highly competitive against each other. I asked him if he had any suggestions for the boys.

Taotao feel that he definitely is supportive if the candidate is grounded with his dream/goal in mind. However, many youngsters these days are very cocky/overconfident. They don’t even greet their seniors when they see them, he feels that that is very rude.

He gave an example. Previously when filming an advert, he overheard a staff member saying that a newbie basically just refused to film on set, and even threw the script at others.

“Why be an idol/artiste in that case? In any way, don’t let me catch them in action. They’re dead if so, really.”

Cried for 8 months, nearly sunk into depression

I didn’t’ forget the purpose of my trip, and so I asked him if he was going to change his weibo id again after the drama “Yan Shi Fan” airs. “

Taotao replied firmly, “Nope! I know that you can only change your weibo id 5 times a year.” So he’ll keep Chong Liming in the “he’s coming” condition, until he finishes watching the drama with everyone.

“So have you thought about what your next ID is going to be yet?”

“Yes!”

“What is it?”

Huang Zitao (so so innocent) , “It’s XXXXX” (am not revealing it for now for Taotao’s sake)

“You do know that by revealing it, everyone will go fight for that ID first?”

Huang Zitao “??? Then why did you trick me???”

After have tricked Taotao, I felt really good, and so I continued to tell him that fans tried to hold on to his previous id “@CPOPKING-黄子韬”, in case he wanted it back.

Taotao said it was alright, “It’s ok, hold on it. That id’s a bit much anyway, there are many news ids out there~”

Looks like Taotao’s really quite satisfied with the character Chong Liming. He’s not even going to look back on that weibo id change.

When asked about how he understands Chong Liming’s character, he says, “He’s someone who’s so much more tired/exhausted living than dead, and cries 3 times a day.”

So he had crying scenes every day, and a major crying scene every 3 days. “I basically cried for 8 months, and nearly got depression.” Huang Zitao said, Jackie Chan even sent him a very long message, telling him how to deal with all the negative emotions that result from acting.

Making his own real person variety show

Before coming for the interview, I have asked fans for questions on weibo, so Taotao answered some here. Such as the concert that everyone’s so concerned about.

Taotao says that there’ll only be one concert this year and it’ll be in June in Shanghai. You all can start planning your schedule~ He says he wishes to rest for the first half of the year, so he won’t be filming dramas. He’s just going to write songs, prep for his concert and he also intends to release an album this year.

That’s called resting?? Ok…

So what does he like to do when “resting”?

Taotao looked at me, perplexed. “Go out! Play! What else? Eat & drink and basically have fun. “

And then he started counting for me, saying that he likes driving, watching movies (having watched Bumblebee and Aquaman recently, he recommends it to fans) and getting friends to go over to his place for a chit chat. But they can only chat now, because he’s gotten the rabies vaccine shot, so he can’t drink.

After “resting”, in May, his company will be cooperating with another platform to present a travel related real person/life variety show, and he has two dramas coming in the latter half of the year.

Even though he doesn’t want to exhaust himself through variety shows, he feels that he should still do at least one per year. Because he likes travelling, so he wishes to do the sort of programme where one really focuses on the travel, with no missions. “It’s the sort of variety show that shows you who’s generous and who’s petty, the kind of loads of details.”

“So are you a generous or petty traveller?” I thought he would say the former, but he’s very clear about the situation. “It depends on who I’m with. If I don’t like that person, I won’t spare a single cent. But if it’s someone I like, then it doesn’t matter. “

So now I have gotten all the key information for you all. I said good bye to Tao and walked out of the interview room, as I heard him say (cutely) to staff, “ahhh haven’t done an interview in ages, I feel I don’t know how to talk much anymore~~”

Now there are plenty of fans outside the interview room waiting to enter the hall. I revealed to the fans as I left, “Huang Zitao’s hairstyle today is very handsome”. Everyone went ahhhhhh!!

So I left amidst all those envious looks..

A video of an interview is coming but here’s an extract of it:

Q: Your first impression of Chong Liming when reading the script?

Tao: In the beginning I had not read the script, it was the producer Liang Zhenhua who told me the story. I took on the project because he absolutely moved me. Chong Liming is the sort who cries three times a day, no joke. I basically have crying scenes every day and a big one every 3 days. He’s actually a very pitiful person. He looks as if nothing matters on the surface, but he’s just holding it all inside. Basically he’s so much more exhausted living than dying.

Q: Do you think you share similarities with Chong Liming

Tao: I don’t think so. I live a happy life (laughs heartily)

Q: You’ve set up a new company in 2018, so what are the plans for the company?

Tao: My dad’s managing it. I’m just in charge of completing my acting projects. The plan is to well, achieve something. Hope the things produced by our company will be well liked and well received, doesn’t disappoint the market and audience. And if I’m in it, then all the more I’ll have ensure it doesn’t disappoint.

Q: Chinese New Year is near, so can you reveal your year end prize with us, Boss Huang?

Tao: My dad’s in charge of that.. I.. I want year end prize too!! Money will do!!! Hahahaha! If it’s a lucky draw, I hope others in the company will get more. If I get something big, I’ll just split it on the spot, but I’m not the lucky kind.

Q: Evaluate/comment on your two variety shows last year.

Tao: Actually, the street dance and produce 101 programs… I don’t think I’m particularly suited to those. They required more outstanding candidates. There’s not much meaning to me being a mentor. I prefer Takes A Real Man, with everyone living and experiencing life together. That sort of show I liked, so I want to make something like that.

Q: Actually everyone likes the sequence of videos which showed you getting startled/a fright. They feel it’s funny. What’s your view on that?

Tao: Pretty good. That’s my natural reaction. I feel that as an artiste, no matter what I do, be it when I’m on a variety show or the gifs produced after, it’s good that it brings laughter to all. At least everyone’s smiling because of me, that’s the energy I bring to everyone I guess.

Q: You’re not scared of being labelled a comedian?

Tao: nope. I have my works.

Q: There will be 2-300 new male idols from all those male audition shows this year. As an experienced senior, what suggestions do you have for them?

Tao: if they have their dreams in mind, then I would support. But a lot of youngsters these days are very cocky. Some don’t even manage basic courtesy, not even greeting seniors when they see them. Very arrogant and rude. For example, I overheard a staff member saying that a newbie basically just refused to film on set, and even threw the script at others. Why be an idol/artiste in that case? In any way, don’t let me catch them in action. They’re dead if so, really.

Q: So promote yourself to all those who will fall in love/like you after watching Yan Shi Fan

Tao: If you all got to know me or like me through Yan Shi Fan, I hope you all can better understand just what kind of artiste I am. When a show is airing, I’ll be super active. But when I’m working, I’ll be totally silent. That’s because of the process of me learning, accumulating experiences while trying to present a better piece of work. I believe my following works will be better and better and won’t disappoint everyone. And I hope everyone can really treat me as an actor, and not a singer who happens to be act. I really want to break that label… so If I don’t manage to with these 3 dramas, then I’ll keep trying.. next year I’ll continue to work hard at filming.. if I don’t break it by 30.. then I guess not then.. (laughs)

Q: So what happens then?

Tao: I tell you, that won’t happen. It will definitely be better and better. Can’t become an actor after Yan Shi Fan finish airing. I cried for those 8 months, almost getting depression. I messaged Jackie Chan who sent me such a long message, saying how I can deal with it. Even though you see that I’m all smiles and laugher when chasing “The Negotiator”.. well, in part that was to promote the show, but secondly, I forget that I’m the character when I’m watching it. When filming Yan Shi Fan, the happiest thing was for me to back and watch a new episode every night. So I was really exhausted filming this, I feel that all that effort will definitely be rewarded!

#ztao #huang zitao #zitao #tao

9 notes · View notes

billssefton · 6 years

Text

I got in trouble because my coworker saw maxi pads in my car, and more

It’s five answers to five questions. Here we go…

1. I got written up because my coworker saw maxi pads in my car

One of my coworkers complained because she saw a package of maxi pads in the backseat of my car when she parked near me in our parking lot. I had stopped at the store on the way into work, and they were in a bag along with shampoo and toothpaste. I got a write-up for it by HR and my boss told me not to do it again and keep them private. I was actually shocked when I was spoken to about it. I want to know if I should push back on this and say anything and how I should do it? I would be curious to hear your thoughts.

You got written up because someone saw a box of maxi pads in your car??

My head is exploding.

What’s going to happen if next time your coworker sees other toiletries in your car, like — gasp — toothpaste? Would she object to seeing a 12-pack of toilet paper too?

This is ridiculous and offensive and misogynist, and you should push back on it. Go back to HR and/or your boss and say, “I’d like you to remove that write-up from my file. There’s nothing inappropriate about having toiletries in my car, whether it’s a pack of toilet paper, a box of maxi pads, or a bottle of shampoo. There’s nothing dirty or shameful about feminine hygiene products, and we’re on awfully shaky ground in penalizing someone for having normal, everyday products in their car just because they happen to be for women. There is no reason that I should have a disciplinary note in my file about this.”

2. Was I tricked into leaving?

I am an American citizen working abroad. I am the only foreigner in my large company overseen by the government of the country where I live, and my salary is paid by a grant from the government to my employer. Several weeks ago, a colleague asked me if I knew that the government had sent my employer a warning that they may not continue to provide that grant after this contract ends. I had not hear that, and was very surprised to hear it mentioned so casually. The colleague called over another coworker, who confirmed that it was true. On the next work day, I went to my manager to ask about it, She said that it was true, and they would not find out if they were receiving the grant for several months. I asked why I had not been formally told, and she said they hadn’t wanted to worry me.

For visa reasons, I could not wait until the timeline offered by my manager to find out if the position would be extended. I interviewed with several companies and accepted an excellent job. I am excited about it.

I gave notice at my current job to my manager’s boss. He was absolutely shocked, and said that there was no question at all about the grant being continued. They had already received the money. He got in touch the government body that funds the grant for me, and they confirmed that for me. There was never any question about my employment.

Today, I got a short message from my manager saying that they only found out today that the grant would be continued and that it was sad that I had already decided to leave. I have not replied to that, because I don’t know what to say.

As crazy as it sounds, I’m genuinely wondering if these three colleagues could have deliberately set into motion a plan to make me quit? I have been told that my manager is a bit uncomfortable with having a foreigner on staff, but all of my evaluations have been exceeds-expectations or above and I’m generally well-liked at work. Still, I can’t figure out what else might have happened here. Should I share these concerns with my manager’s boss? Ask my manager for an explanation (although she is very non-verbal and I’m not sure I will get a real reply)? Just let it go, because I have no real evidence of anything? It makes no difference to my future plans; I will start my new job soon regardless. But the confusion is really getting to me.

Wow, yeah, either your manager was pushing you out, or there was a major miscommunication somewhere. The latter is definitely possible — it could be that your manager’s boss wasn’t fully in the loop about the grant situation, or it could be that somehow your manager had her info wrong. But it’s alarming enough that it’s worth looking into — because if your manager did do this behind her own boss’s back, that’s a big deal and he should know about it.

Skip your manager because that will give her time to potentially concoct a cover story, and go straight to your manager’s boss. In fact, I’d just forward him the email your manager sent you and say something like, “See below from Jane. Given our conversation, I’m really confused! Do you have a minute to talk with me about this?” (Alternately, you could email them both at the same time and say, “I’m really confused about this because Bob told me last week that there was no question about the grant being continued, and he confirmed with Agency that the money was received a while ago. I of course wouldn’t have job searched if I’d known that, so it seems like there might be a major miscommunication here.”)

3. Can I approach my boss about things feeling off?

Recently my department has been undergoing a lot of changes that have led to my boss being completely swamped. There have also been changes in management that mean he’s helping to train and onboard new people above his head while still managing the rest of our team. He’s been noticeably exhausted and short-tempered, and his emails and other communication have been very curt.

I’m having trouble distinguishing actual displeasure with my work from all the general stress response of things being chaotic. I’ve been trying to speak up and step forward more, taking a more aggressive role (this has been part of my ongoing professional goals as discussed in reviews), and his responses to that have been blunt and critical — but always very targeted, so I’m not sure if he’s displeased overall or trying to give feedback on the weak points without bothering to include a general “good job.”

I know the obvious response is to pull him aside for a five-minute meeting and ask, but since he’s so swamped, I don’t want to add more on his plate in the form of having to deal with my feelings. On the other hand, these particular feelings are stemming from his actual job. Still, it feels wrong to bother him about it. What do you think?

If you’re feeling unsure about how you’re doing overall, that’s very much a work-related thing that’s worth asking your boss about. Don’t discount it by framing it to yourself as just about your feelings! If there are problems, you need to know about them so you can correct them — and if there aren’t problems, you need to know that so that you’re not expending energy stressing out about the wrong things.

So yes, ask! If he’s so busy that you can’t realistically get a separate meeting with him, bring it up the next time you’re already talking to him about something else. Say something like, “Can I ask how you think things are going overall? You’ve given me some really helpful feedback recently, but my sense is that you’ve had more criticism of my work than usual and I wasn’t sure if there might be broader concerns with my work that I should be tackling, or if you’re overall happy with what I’m doing.”

4. Can I put my “exceeds expectations” performance review score on my resume?

For the first time, I got “Exceeds Expectations” (an A+ at my company) on my performance review this year. I’m currently job searching because I’m likely to be laid off in a couple of months, and I was wondering if there’s any way to mention this evaluation on my resume. If not, do you think it would be all right to mention it during an interview if something comes up that makes it relevant?

Don’t put it on your resume. Employers won’t have any way to know how rigorous the performance review standards are at your company, and it could come across as giving too much weight to something that doesn’t warrant it. The exception to this is if you can contextualize it with something like “performance was rated in top 1% of employees in 2018,” and then ideally explain why. (But even then, I’d leave “exceeds expectations” off, because there are so many companies where loads of people score that.)

The same advice applies to interviews. The rating on its own isn’t worth bringing up, but if there’s a way to say that you were rated in the top X% of employees and why (because it doesn’t stand on its own as well as it does with context attached), that’s fine to do.

5. Including legal work status on your resume

I’ve had the privilege to review a lot of resumes recently, and it appears common (in the U.S.) for an applicant to state their visa or residency status. Would you advise all applicants putting that on their resumes? As a citizen I never thought to add it, but should I/we?

You’re more likely to see this in fields that typically hire a lot of foreign-born workers (where legal work status comes up all the time) or sometimes from candidates whose education or work history is outside the U.S. (and so they want to preemptively answer any questions about their legal eligibility to work here). But it’s not something you’re expected to include in general.