Earlier this year, I wrote about my continuous job issue - getting promoted.
Let's recap:
Last year, I applied for this position, and interviewed with HR. The company suddenly restructured, and HR decided to put the job on hold. I was a leading candidate.
January of this year, the job reopened, for two positions in the area. I applied to both, and waited. I did a preliminary interview with HR, where they asked me to pick one of the two open positions (they're both in the area, but I did have a clear preference), and waited. I then did a final interview with my boss' boss and the man who would have been my boss, and waited. In all, I waited three months. And didn't get the job. I covered that in May.
After I didn't get the job in the first half of the year, I decided to swallow all pride and help the guy who got the job (keep in mind, I used to help him before he got the job, too). I put on a brave face and acted like an adult. I filled in for him three times, a total of about 18 days in three months. I helped him close sales, deal with problems, and covered my office location so that he didn't need to spend as much time with us. He excelled at his job. I took on some more responsibilities, and even became certified to train my team on a new product that pertained to that job.
And then they decided to add a third person to the position. I applied. I interviewed with HR again. I interviewed with my boss' boss' counterpart, and waited. I then had an interview with the new boss over the group in our area (they had expanded the management as well), and waited.
I didn't get the job. Again. The fourth time in less than a year.
This time, they hired a woman in our area who had always been there, pestering the first hire to fill in for him instead of me. She never had the time to do it, and never focused on getting the job, but took a temporary position in management to fill in for someone who was out. And that got her the job. Mind you, I've done that before - I mentioned it at the beginning of May's post (see the demoted link). When I was told that I didn't have the job, I was erroneously told that the person they hired (they didn't tell me who - I found out later) had come from outside the company, and had more experience than I did. As you can imagine, I was quite miffed when I figured out the truth.
Once again, I played the loyal worker and rolled with it. I started conversations with the new boss, and shook hands with the lady who got my job.
And then I started casually looking around for a new job.
My casual search changed only a week later, when my boss for the past three years, a guy I've managed and who had managed me at various times, a guy I've had some issue with before (he was the ultimate cause of being demoted in 2015), but has been the best manager I had in all twelve of my years with the company, was suddenly fired.
They didn't have a reason, really. It was an algorithm, a computer program that scored him against others without taking into account that he was the highest-rated manager in the state, and managing the top location in twelve states. And in his place, they put a guy that had been trying for years to get rid of me. I knew I wouldn't have much time, so I escalated my job search, and looked for jobs within the company around the country - the same position I had been passed over for earlier in the year.
I applied to a position just beyond the state, half a day's drive away. I contacted people back where my parents live, and in the state where my boss considered moving to. I had some interest, got a couple interviews, and got to the tail end of one of them.
And they chose me. The location that's back home, on the other side of the US. Better still, they will pay for my move.
It infuriates me that I couldn't get a job in my own area, where I've worked for a dozen years, but I could get the same job thousands of miles away on the first try. The people who want me to move are genuinely interested in my abilities and success - something I can't get with people 30 miles away from me.
So now I stand on the precipice of massive change for myself and my family. It's a daunting task. But I think that in the end, it will all be worth it. A new adventure awaits - the adventure I wish I could have had here. Instead, I get to spend the next many years far from here, from an area I love, but from situations I despise.
Wish me luck.
-TRM
Sunday, October 30, 2016
Monday, May 23, 2016
It happens again
Funny how things work.
A year ago, I posted about being demoted at work.
The last three months - that's right, THREE MONTHS - I've been waiting for a promotion at work.
But this isn't what I did in the past, this was a job I'd been waiting years for. They only made the position in the past six months, but I had suggested an earlier version of it in 2012.
I applied last year, and interviewed, but they held off due to some corporate restructuring that changed who the bosses were and where they were based out of.
When they reopened the position, I was excited to get this over with. The position was essentually what I was already doing within my own team, but on a larger scale. I'd be duplicating my success across several offices. And when I say success, I should mention (with some humility in my heart) that I am the highest person in reporting for this success in twelve states, and as far as I can tell, the whole company (I have no way to check). By almost triple the best people in the business, and about 50% more than average.
I had lived, breathed, and crapped this metric for many years. The job was made for me.
I interviewed a second time a month after the first with HR. And another month later they reopened the job posting to get more people - after they had already launched a whole team of people in the same position across twelve states. I was automatically applied, but never interviewed again.
And after all the waiting, they gave it to one of the people I've been a mentor to.
And while I was told I wasn't getting the job, I was told it was because I hadn't been doing anything to teach my success to others.
What?
I've taught my own team constantly for years. I'm the guy who put together a group of like-minded people within the other half-dozen offices in our district. I'm the one that those people go to with questions on how to do the job. I'm the one that management asks for help when they need it. This person? They've never done anything to teach others. They don't have the success I've had. They didn't even apply for the job the first time around.
When I was told why I wasn't being hired, I asked that person what I could do to have won the job over what I've already been doing. And the person didn't even know about the things I had been doing in preparation for the job. Hell, they didn't even call my current supervisor. They took the word of my boss' boss, who was in the interview and supposedly was supporting me for the job, yet I rarely see him. The person told me they'd look into what I've been doing. Which told me they hadn't done a damn thing to begin with.
I was fucked from day one.
This isn't the job I lost a year ago. This is the job I waited more than a decade for. This is a job I asked for years before they knew they needed it. This is the job I already do, at least in part.
This was my job. And they took it from me.
I feel lost. I feel angry. I feel like a failure, and a disappointment. I feel alone in my work. I feel useless, unappreciated, and misunderstood.
And I thought it was bad last year.
How much longer do I have to wait for someone at work to see my worth? Because actual, physical results aren't getting me there.
- TRM
A year ago, I posted about being demoted at work.
The last three months - that's right, THREE MONTHS - I've been waiting for a promotion at work.
But this isn't what I did in the past, this was a job I'd been waiting years for. They only made the position in the past six months, but I had suggested an earlier version of it in 2012.
I applied last year, and interviewed, but they held off due to some corporate restructuring that changed who the bosses were and where they were based out of.
When they reopened the position, I was excited to get this over with. The position was essentually what I was already doing within my own team, but on a larger scale. I'd be duplicating my success across several offices. And when I say success, I should mention (with some humility in my heart) that I am the highest person in reporting for this success in twelve states, and as far as I can tell, the whole company (I have no way to check). By almost triple the best people in the business, and about 50% more than average.
I had lived, breathed, and crapped this metric for many years. The job was made for me.
I interviewed a second time a month after the first with HR. And another month later they reopened the job posting to get more people - after they had already launched a whole team of people in the same position across twelve states. I was automatically applied, but never interviewed again.
And after all the waiting, they gave it to one of the people I've been a mentor to.
And while I was told I wasn't getting the job, I was told it was because I hadn't been doing anything to teach my success to others.
What?
I've taught my own team constantly for years. I'm the guy who put together a group of like-minded people within the other half-dozen offices in our district. I'm the one that those people go to with questions on how to do the job. I'm the one that management asks for help when they need it. This person? They've never done anything to teach others. They don't have the success I've had. They didn't even apply for the job the first time around.
When I was told why I wasn't being hired, I asked that person what I could do to have won the job over what I've already been doing. And the person didn't even know about the things I had been doing in preparation for the job. Hell, they didn't even call my current supervisor. They took the word of my boss' boss, who was in the interview and supposedly was supporting me for the job, yet I rarely see him. The person told me they'd look into what I've been doing. Which told me they hadn't done a damn thing to begin with.
I was fucked from day one.
This isn't the job I lost a year ago. This is the job I waited more than a decade for. This is a job I asked for years before they knew they needed it. This is the job I already do, at least in part.
This was my job. And they took it from me.
I feel lost. I feel angry. I feel like a failure, and a disappointment. I feel alone in my work. I feel useless, unappreciated, and misunderstood.
And I thought it was bad last year.
How much longer do I have to wait for someone at work to see my worth? Because actual, physical results aren't getting me there.
- TRM
Sunday, July 19, 2015
So few people read this
I came on here tonight to talk about my project today.
Before writing this entry, I looked at my stats. As expected, I get so few hits. I designed it that day, of course, by creating an anonymous blog and barely ever posting on it. It's like I won in some small way, though it would be a bit more therapeutic to have more than four occasional readers.
Thanks for reading. You know who you are.
TRM
Before writing this entry, I looked at my stats. As expected, I get so few hits. I designed it that day, of course, by creating an anonymous blog and barely ever posting on it. It's like I won in some small way, though it would be a bit more therapeutic to have more than four occasional readers.
Thanks for reading. You know who you are.
TRM
Wednesday, May 20, 2015
Demoting
I found out today that I was being demoted down one role at work.
I had been promoted in December. It was "acting," or temporary, but the company does that to give themselves an "out" if things didn't work out. Turns out, someone in the same role turned in his notice a month back. They backfilled his position before he left, and then he changed his mind. So once he became extra, I became expendable.
Funny enough, he's probably going to leave in a year or less. In the meantime, I get to "wait" until the next position opens up, which feels much more like a huge middle finger in my face than a guarantee.
If I hadn't been working for this promotion for many years, maybe I could get over it.
Instead, I'm forced to reconsider my eleven year career to start over, or bend over and take it like a good employee.
Hooray for me.
TRM
I had been promoted in December. It was "acting," or temporary, but the company does that to give themselves an "out" if things didn't work out. Turns out, someone in the same role turned in his notice a month back. They backfilled his position before he left, and then he changed his mind. So once he became extra, I became expendable.
Funny enough, he's probably going to leave in a year or less. In the meantime, I get to "wait" until the next position opens up, which feels much more like a huge middle finger in my face than a guarantee.
If I hadn't been working for this promotion for many years, maybe I could get over it.
Instead, I'm forced to reconsider my eleven year career to start over, or bend over and take it like a good employee.
Hooray for me.
TRM
Thursday, March 26, 2015
In response to The Law of Tithing
You Don't Have to Can to Get to Heaven: Discussion: The Law of Tithing
A friend recently talked about when she decided she could no longer support paying a tithing to the LDS church. It got me thinking about when I left The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, and prompted me to write on my anonymous blog (hence you reading this).
I was a convert to the LDS church. I commonly explain to others that I joined the church for the wrong reasons. It aptly describes how I ended up a Mormon and later leaving. The reasons are much deeper and complex than that, but it adequately explains my initial membership in the LDS church.
At some point I stopped pretending to believe and believed. I could probably write an entire dissertation on what that means, but I honestly felt that I had accepted the Mormon yoke upon my shoulders. Just after taking on these beliefs as my own, I started to learn deeper truths that led me to change those beliefs and once again pretend to believe. That process was complicated and formed into a clearer picture over a few years time.
During my time in the church, tithing evolved over the years. At first, tithing was a difficult thing, as I'd never done it before. My first wife, who had grown up LDS in Utah, tithed from the moment she started going to church again. We cohabitated (in sin, if you will) for about a year and a half before we got married, and I never tithed. During that time, there was a lot of pressure on me to join the church, which only became stronger after we got married. It was around that time that the ward members and missionaries, not to mention my first wife, were wearing me down on joining the church. After finally joining the church, I started paying a tithe. And that's when things got hard.
I didn't make a lot at work. My wife at that time had been working while we dated, and even after we got married, so our two incomes were adequate to pay for our home and bills, even with her tithing. But once we had our first child, she stopped working to be home with our daughter. I became the sole income provider. She'd been working for an insurance company, and lost our wonderful 100% covered insurance when she quit, and I couldn't afford the insurance at my work. We went from doing just fine to being poor in a matter of months. But I kept paying my tithe.
At some point, my dad (who had been supportive of me joining the church, to some extent) pulled me aside and asked me where my money went. I'd lost almost 50 pounds from eating free popcorn at work for lunch. We were having Stove Top Stuffing almost every night for dinner,and getting food through WIC. My wife took on a baby sitting job for a couple of kids to earn some money, and we even had a former coworker of my wife living in our home for income. My dad saw us struggling, and wanted to know why.
Eventually, he zeroed in on tithing as a big problem, and it made him furious.
I was paying 10% of my measly income to the church, and starving myself, my wife, and our young child.
They always said that paying a tithe without question would reward you in blessings. I believed they were there, but it took a non-Mormon pointing out that I needed to go on welfare assistance to make me wonder if I was really blessed for my sacrifice.
I put the logic aside and continued to pay tithing for many years. Eventually, my first wife convinced me to move to Utah, leaving my life behind. I was going to finish college (didn't), live in my mother-in-law's basement to save money (didn't), and grow spiritually (worked for a while).
When I had no job, I didn't pay any tithing. Conversing with my ward bishop, I'd often feel guilty for not paying a tithe, even though I wasn't making anything. In time, I stopped going to school and got a job, and started tithing again. By then, the allure of the LDS church in Utah was wearing off, and a couple years later I stopped paying tithing in anticipation of leaving the church. I stopped cold-turkey at the end of 2004, and it was actually nice to keep more of my earnings. For the first time in years, I could afford a house again. I didn't struggle as much, and I certainly didn't feel guilty. In some way, I felt freed when I stopped paying a tithe.
Years before, my dad had made a point which I chose to ignore: your family comes first. At a time when I was starving myself, my wife, and my baby girl, I should have been using that money for food. The church raked in billions of dollars and used it as it saw fit. Members of the ward (and the bishop) knew we were struggling, and only once did the storehouse come up. We used it only the one time.
These past few years, my current wife and I have struggled. We've gone to the church - our neighbors - for help after they offered, and do you know what one of the first comments were? We should be paying tithing. My family is struggling, and you want me to help the church. I can easily imagine what it would be like if I had been paying a tithe because I'd been there before.
I'm sorry, I learned that lesson ten years ago. Family comes first. You have enough money already.
A friend recently talked about when she decided she could no longer support paying a tithing to the LDS church. It got me thinking about when I left The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, and prompted me to write on my anonymous blog (hence you reading this).
I was a convert to the LDS church. I commonly explain to others that I joined the church for the wrong reasons. It aptly describes how I ended up a Mormon and later leaving. The reasons are much deeper and complex than that, but it adequately explains my initial membership in the LDS church.
At some point I stopped pretending to believe and believed. I could probably write an entire dissertation on what that means, but I honestly felt that I had accepted the Mormon yoke upon my shoulders. Just after taking on these beliefs as my own, I started to learn deeper truths that led me to change those beliefs and once again pretend to believe. That process was complicated and formed into a clearer picture over a few years time.
During my time in the church, tithing evolved over the years. At first, tithing was a difficult thing, as I'd never done it before. My first wife, who had grown up LDS in Utah, tithed from the moment she started going to church again. We cohabitated (in sin, if you will) for about a year and a half before we got married, and I never tithed. During that time, there was a lot of pressure on me to join the church, which only became stronger after we got married. It was around that time that the ward members and missionaries, not to mention my first wife, were wearing me down on joining the church. After finally joining the church, I started paying a tithe. And that's when things got hard.
I didn't make a lot at work. My wife at that time had been working while we dated, and even after we got married, so our two incomes were adequate to pay for our home and bills, even with her tithing. But once we had our first child, she stopped working to be home with our daughter. I became the sole income provider. She'd been working for an insurance company, and lost our wonderful 100% covered insurance when she quit, and I couldn't afford the insurance at my work. We went from doing just fine to being poor in a matter of months. But I kept paying my tithe.
At some point, my dad (who had been supportive of me joining the church, to some extent) pulled me aside and asked me where my money went. I'd lost almost 50 pounds from eating free popcorn at work for lunch. We were having Stove Top Stuffing almost every night for dinner,and getting food through WIC. My wife took on a baby sitting job for a couple of kids to earn some money, and we even had a former coworker of my wife living in our home for income. My dad saw us struggling, and wanted to know why.
Eventually, he zeroed in on tithing as a big problem, and it made him furious.
I was paying 10% of my measly income to the church, and starving myself, my wife, and our young child.
They always said that paying a tithe without question would reward you in blessings. I believed they were there, but it took a non-Mormon pointing out that I needed to go on welfare assistance to make me wonder if I was really blessed for my sacrifice.
I put the logic aside and continued to pay tithing for many years. Eventually, my first wife convinced me to move to Utah, leaving my life behind. I was going to finish college (didn't), live in my mother-in-law's basement to save money (didn't), and grow spiritually (worked for a while).
When I had no job, I didn't pay any tithing. Conversing with my ward bishop, I'd often feel guilty for not paying a tithe, even though I wasn't making anything. In time, I stopped going to school and got a job, and started tithing again. By then, the allure of the LDS church in Utah was wearing off, and a couple years later I stopped paying tithing in anticipation of leaving the church. I stopped cold-turkey at the end of 2004, and it was actually nice to keep more of my earnings. For the first time in years, I could afford a house again. I didn't struggle as much, and I certainly didn't feel guilty. In some way, I felt freed when I stopped paying a tithe.
Years before, my dad had made a point which I chose to ignore: your family comes first. At a time when I was starving myself, my wife, and my baby girl, I should have been using that money for food. The church raked in billions of dollars and used it as it saw fit. Members of the ward (and the bishop) knew we were struggling, and only once did the storehouse come up. We used it only the one time.
These past few years, my current wife and I have struggled. We've gone to the church - our neighbors - for help after they offered, and do you know what one of the first comments were? We should be paying tithing. My family is struggling, and you want me to help the church. I can easily imagine what it would be like if I had been paying a tithe because I'd been there before.
I'm sorry, I learned that lesson ten years ago. Family comes first. You have enough money already.
Wednesday, November 13, 2013
Monday, January 30, 2012
Really?
Has it really been so long?
Interestingly, my last blog entry here was from May 12, 2010. It even started with "I haven't written in a while."
Curious.
The irony of the timing of that post doesn't escape me. I had a serious medical incident only two weeks later, which took me out of work for eight months. I had to be in a wheelchair for months, then relearn to walk when I was ready. It was a hard road, and I'm still recovering from it almost two years later.
So much has changed. I have a new perspective now. My time is too precious not to be working toward my dream of being a full-time writer. I've set my mind on it, and now I'm working for what I want. I'm still suffering through a shitty work environment, but at least I have writing to take my mind off it. Everything changed while I was gone, and I don't just mean our product. The people changed. The environment changed. A little bit of our dignity died, and I was lucky to avoid some of it.
My wife had an accident while I was out on leave. At first, it might have seemed somewhat minor. But it's turned into something much worse that we will struggle with the rest of our lives. It's taken a toll on her. It's taken a toll on me. It's also done the same on our kids and pets. Her family is oblivious to what's going on. Not that we haven't tried explaining it to them. The silver lining to her condition has been bringing the two of us closer together. I'm more in love with her now than the day I married her.
Interestingly, my last blog entry here was from May 12, 2010. It even started with "I haven't written in a while."
Curious.
The irony of the timing of that post doesn't escape me. I had a serious medical incident only two weeks later, which took me out of work for eight months. I had to be in a wheelchair for months, then relearn to walk when I was ready. It was a hard road, and I'm still recovering from it almost two years later.
So much has changed. I have a new perspective now. My time is too precious not to be working toward my dream of being a full-time writer. I've set my mind on it, and now I'm working for what I want. I'm still suffering through a shitty work environment, but at least I have writing to take my mind off it. Everything changed while I was gone, and I don't just mean our product. The people changed. The environment changed. A little bit of our dignity died, and I was lucky to avoid some of it.
My wife had an accident while I was out on leave. At first, it might have seemed somewhat minor. But it's turned into something much worse that we will struggle with the rest of our lives. It's taken a toll on her. It's taken a toll on me. It's also done the same on our kids and pets. Her family is oblivious to what's going on. Not that we haven't tried explaining it to them. The silver lining to her condition has been bringing the two of us closer together. I'm more in love with her now than the day I married her.
One of my closest friends seemed to fall off the face of the earth, and I have no idea why. I say this in mind of the fact that I've come to terms with it now. But to say it didn't effect me since 2010 would be a lie. It changed a lot of things for me. I gave up on people who had given up on me many years ago.
Everything changed since then.
The good news is, I'm in a much better place to follow my dream of being a writer. I have the desire now to see it through. It's imperative that something, even small things, change for the better. And with this, I have some degree of control. I can change the way things are.
I don't know if anyone even reads this anymore. I know I don't. But know this, stranger, I will succeed, despite you, them, or even me.
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