You Can't Fire Me...

Most people love the holidays. But most people don't work for Moxie, who has 27 holiday parties to organize. 13 of these parties happen to fall onto my desk. So I have been going from hotel to ballroom, hanging holly and misteltoe and shiny red and gold ornaments from high ceilings. We will NOT even discuss the carnival themed holiday party.

Okay, we so will.

Consider draping the entire ballroom in a circus tent. Hiring clowns and magicians, renting popcorn and cotton candy machines, hot dog “stands”…The bar was turned into a carousel, complete with lit horses going up and down. I was a wreck. I had not slept more than a few hours a week in the last month and I was losing it. The staff at Moxie was being...a little less than holiday-spirited. I asked for raise three times in the last three months, to which Ross had laughed the first time, said to ask another time, and finally, told me that if I really wanted to make more money I should look for another job. Which is hard to do when you are working 80-90 hours a week. But something had fallen out of the sky, and even though it was crazy, I was considering it more and more. Especially since I currently had 126 boxes of assorted stationary on my desk to print out follow up holiday cards. Seriously. I was on my fourth attempt to shove the card stock through the printer to print up Ross' special holiday greeting. "What's the hold-up?" Ross barked from his office.
"The printer." My voice was probably louder and sharper than necessary. "I have been trying to work with the templates for two hours, Ross, maybe I should-"

Ross held up a hand. "I want these done!" I shot him a dirty look as I pulled out the manual feed tray, crashed into Lainie's desk, overturned a plant, and landed on the floor.
"We do not have time for you goofing off!" Ross exploded. "I want those cards done NOW!"

I stood up and faced him. "Ross, I will finish those cards as soon as I can." Again, my tone was sharper than I'd intended, but I was so tired, and so sick of everything. I limped back to my desk and slumped in my chair when I noticed I had an email in my personal mail...from Jay Avano. Jay Avano was the president of a non-profit organization that ran events for teens in Atlanta. I had met him at a conference three years ago and we had chatted briefly. And he had offered me a job.

"Just wondering if you had thought any more about my offer. I'd love to fly you in to meet some people. Let me know. -J"

I looked around the office. Everyone seemed to be moving underwater, in slow motion. I was so tired. I was done. My hands were shaking, and I stood up and made my way to Ross' office. He did not even look up from his desk. "Cards ready?"

"Ross, there' something wrong with the printer. I'm going to send the cards over to Simco Printing, they can do them overnight for us."

Ross grunted. "Whatever. You can finish the report on the Ellison Holiday Ball."

"Ross, I have worked really, really hard these past few months. I really think we should sit down and talk about my future with this company. I would like a 7% raise."

Now Ross was paying attention. "I don't even get 7%. Are you kidding?"

"No. I have proven myself over and over and nothing is ever good enough for you. What do I need to do?" My voice was rising but I couldn't check myself. "I work harder than anybody else here! We all have our off days, I know that I am not perfect, but seriously! What else do I need to do?"

"Look, if you don't feel valued-"

"Don't feel VALUED?" Now I was shouting. "Of course I don't feel valued! Nobody here feels valued!"

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw everyone staring at me. Joe was shaking his head. "Get a grip." He mouthed. I glared at him.

"Look, maybe if you just work a little harder-"

"Work a little HARDER?" I shrieked. "I brought you more business this year than the last two years combined. My events raised more money than Joe and Rodney's teams combined!"

"You had some high profile clients," Ross waved his hands dismissively.

"Yes, I DID have some high profile clients. And who kept them happy? Who brought Heather Carrington her gummy bears and hot chocolate? Who brought Nancy Wentworth her double espressos which I STILL have not gotten reimbursed for? Who walked Lincoln Denton's three DOGS?"

"You are very good at client services, that's not the point." Ross argued.

I folded my arms. "Then what is the point? Am I getting a raise or not?"

"We can discuss it at your next review in 6 months. Likely it will be 3%." Ross replied.
"If you want a serious salary increase , get another job."

"Fine."

"Great, I'm glad we resolved this issue. Can you get me the Ellison file?"

"Consider this my two weeks notice."

"Excuse me?" Ross was clearly confused.

"Ross, I have learned so much from you." I took a deep breath. "But I don't want to do this anymore. Thank you for everything, but I'm done here."

"You can't be serious."

"I quit."