My boss wouldn’t give me my paycheck until I wrote “I quit” on a empty time card and handed it back to her. This was my second day in a row that I missed work and I told her I would’t be getting a doctor’s note because I make 8 fucking dollars an hour, and I’m not going to spend half a weeks pay just to satisfy some shitty policy the company has mandating the addition of insult to injury.
Fuck White’s Meat Market in Tipton, Indiana. I used to be a regular customer, I will never shop there again.
And fuck 8 dollars an hour. Every week I was devastatedly disappointed with my pay. I had been working part time up until other workers started quitting. The turnover was incredibly high and I was one of the more experienced workers at the time of my departure.
I did end up finding a clinic to go to and I found out my condition is viral, not bacterial, so I basically have to wait it out. There is a black mold looking substance on the walls of the meat cutting room at the Tipton White’s Meat Market. When I’d wash dishes, I would occasionally brush up against it. The doctor said that was the possible cause of my illness. I emailed Christy Crawford of the Tipton Department of Health to see if she could send someone in there to test the black substance.
8 dollar an hour jobs are easy to find. I’m not looking to work for anyone else. Indeed, now that the semester for college has begun, I will be returning to my main source of income: writing papers for college students. I’m still sick right now and I haven’t written much lately, but once I get in the flow of things, you’ll be hearing from me a lot.
