Carol:
Table Talk
Now that I’m retired I don’t have time for everything I used to do when I had a full-time job and children in school. My morning routine--walking the dog, drinking coffee with the neighbors, and writing my daily theme essay-- pretty well gets me to Noon. The rest of the day I’m working over-time on the family history book that has obsessed me for three years.
This morning, coffee is at my house and since I have never had a job that paid for over-time, I decided to ask the neighbors about Topic 62. When I’m stuck for a topic, these folks are as good as Google. This particular morning we are sitting around the table at my house, 7 people and 2 dogs who think they’re people. Five of the seven are retired, and our ages and job experiences run the gamut, but to simplify we are former or current nurse, teachers, office manager, lawyer, librarian, and machinist.
Our usual table talk is punctuated by side conversations, interruptions to hand out dog treats, and much meandering from topic to topic. Today is no different,
Do you have any good stories about working over-time?
Marilyn: “Over-time? Teachers always work overtime, but they
never get paid for it. “
Carol: “Yeah, but some teachers have it easier than others.
It used to really irk me that math teachers never had work to take
home and I never went home without a stack of papers to grade.”
never get paid for it. “
Carol: “Yeah, but some teachers have it easier than others.
It used to really irk me that math teachers never had work to take
home and I never went home without a stack of papers to grade.”
Jim: “You know the answer to that—you should have become a Math teacher. By the way, did you know your husband spotted a religious predator this morning….a bird of prey.”
Everybody: forced smiles and exaggerated groans, prompting the loud beating
of dog tails from underneath the table.
Mary: I never got paid for over-time either and I had to go in once a month and
work all weekend when we did inventory. It didn’t start out that way, but
somebody stole over $50,000 in inventory, so we had had to do it every
month. It was tedious, hard work.
.
Megan: side conversation with Mary about how much easier inventory is now
with bar codes and RFID sensors.
of dog tails from underneath the table.
Mary: I never got paid for over-time either and I had to go in once a month and
work all weekend when we did inventory. It didn’t start out that way, but
somebody stole over $50,000 in inventory, so we had had to do it every
month. It was tedious, hard work.
.
Megan: side conversation with Mary about how much easier inventory is now
with bar codes and RFID sensors.
 |
| HITCO in the early years |
Jim: One Sunday we came in to work [at HITCO] on the attachment ring for a submarine sonar dome. All the parts were laid out on a huge table-- imagine something like gigantic spokes of a bicycle wheel.
Cell phone rings: Peggy leaves the room
Jim continues: I was in management, on a salary. I didn’t get paid over-time. We were on government contracts, so we had deadlines to meet. One thing about my boss, though. I could ask for a day or two break to go fishing, and if the schedule was clear, he’d give me the okay to take off.
Google Note: "HITCO has maintained its Los Angeles base while playing a key role in the development of the nation’s aerospace, defense and composite materials industries."
Marilyn: I really should go. I have lots to do today (see, all retired people are too
busy to relax).
Carol: Megan, quick, you need to take a picture before everybody leaves. Get
your cell phone.
Mary (a widow whose husband Sal worked for Miller’ Brewing Co):
Miller’s used to close down the plant and give everybody time off
the week between Christmas and New Year’s. Everybody except Sal
because he was the head of Building and Maintenance. I would go
with him; at the end of the day, I walked the miles of hallways to
turn off the lights. People just don’t have a clue what goes on inside a
factory.
Carol: Megan, take another picture. Let’s see if we can get Coda to stick her
head up over the table.
Megan: Mom, you need to start taking your own pictures.
Peggy, Jim, Mary, Marilyn: Time to go, lots to do today.
Retired people, they are always working over-time but they never get paid.
Cell phone rings: Peggy leaves the room
Jim continues: I was in management, on a salary. I didn’t get paid over-time. We were on government contracts, so we had deadlines to meet. One thing about my boss, though. I could ask for a day or two break to go fishing, and if the schedule was clear, he’d give me the okay to take off.
Google Note: "HITCO has maintained its Los Angeles base while playing a key role in the development of the nation’s aerospace, defense and composite materials industries."
Marilyn: I really should go. I have lots to do today (see, all retired people are too
busy to relax).
Carol: Megan, quick, you need to take a picture before everybody leaves. Get
your cell phone.
Mary (a widow whose husband Sal worked for Miller’ Brewing Co):
Miller’s used to close down the plant and give everybody time off
the week between Christmas and New Year’s. Everybody except Sal
because he was the head of Building and Maintenance. I would go
with him; at the end of the day, I walked the miles of hallways to
turn off the lights. People just don’t have a clue what goes on inside a
factory.
Carol: Megan, take another picture. Let’s see if we can get Coda to stick her
head up over the table.
Megan: Mom, you need to start taking your own pictures.
Peggy, Jim, Mary, Marilyn: Time to go, lots to do today.
Retired people, they are always working over-time but they never get paid.
Megan:
Under-worked and over-paid
When I was first hired to work at the prison, it was a part-time job – 25 hours a week. In the UK, a workweek is 37 hours. The other 12 hours I was a member of the Adult Stock and Promotion Team, which managed the collections for the entire county – over 35 libraries. My specific responsibilities were to select and order DVD’s for the county and to supervise the collections on 3 mobile libraries.
Shortly after I started, a draft specification on the management of prison libraries was released by the Home Office, which recommended an extension of professional librarians’ duties and an increase in their hours. My ASAP manager felt that 12 hours was the minimum I could work and be useful to the team, so instead of reducing my hours, I worked over-time. I was hired late in the financial year, which meant there was plenty of money in the budget to cover an extra 8 hours a week. The plan was to hire me an assistant the following spring, as my managers did not want me to burn out by working too much.
For reasons I never quite understood, the extra hours put me into a different, enhanced salary bracket and I made more money each month than I could come close to spending even though I was new to the country and constantly buying household items and professional clothes. I managed to save enough to fly myself to New York City for a week – the first time I had ever paid for my own vacation. I was extremely proud of myself, and certain that I was an adult and would never have to borrow money from anyone ever again. So… naive.
Shortly after I started, a draft specification on the management of prison libraries was released by the Home Office, which recommended an extension of professional librarians’ duties and an increase in their hours. My ASAP manager felt that 12 hours was the minimum I could work and be useful to the team, so instead of reducing my hours, I worked over-time. I was hired late in the financial year, which meant there was plenty of money in the budget to cover an extra 8 hours a week. The plan was to hire me an assistant the following spring, as my managers did not want me to burn out by working too much.
For reasons I never quite understood, the extra hours put me into a different, enhanced salary bracket and I made more money each month than I could come close to spending even though I was new to the country and constantly buying household items and professional clothes. I managed to save enough to fly myself to New York City for a week – the first time I had ever paid for my own vacation. I was extremely proud of myself, and certain that I was an adult and would never have to borrow money from anyone ever again. So… naive.
Shortly after that vacation to NYC, the end of the financial year came and I had a meeting with my managers within the prison and out about hiring an assistant. I convinced them that the prison would benefit from a continuity of service if I was the only librarian, although that would mean taking me full-time and giving up my place on the ASAP team.
I was full of great ideas for the prison (reading groups, creative writing classes, literary journals) that I planned to implement now that I could devote my full attention. Some of the ideas worked, some didn’t, as is always the case. I did manage to double library attendance and quadruple the reference queries – but I wasn’t prepared for the isolation I felt working away from the team.
I also wasn’t prepared for the decrease in my monthly paycheck. My car ate what little savings I had left after that vacation, when the driver’s side window fell off the tracks and dropped down inside the door. Then the car was sideswiped in a hit and run, the wing mirrors were kicked off and someone stole the radio antennae. That’s what happens when you live next to a pub. Anyway, after constantly having to repair my car, I was back to borrowing money from my parents. Even after I became a Chartered Librarian and reached the height of the pay scale, I never made as much money as I did in those first 6 months. I never want to work over-time again – it’s just so not worth it when the money runs out.
No comments:
Post a Comment