"My Google calendar for September looks so beautiful and empty. It's gonna fill up once I get my work schedule but right now I can pretend it'll be glorious and free."
Except that it didn't.
I knew that my schedule at RHA would drop significantly because the end of summer hours comes at Labor Day, but that was anticipated. It happens every year. I gave my newly wide open schedule to the bosses at the bookstore and expected to work there quite a bit more than the last few months, since I was able to work afternoons again. I mean, they assured me over and over in August that I would be getting priority for hours. I even warned them that I was going to have to start looking for a full-time job elsewhere if Sean and I didn't see more money coming into our household.
So I was a bit surprised when they e-mailed September's schedule and I averaged two four-hour shifts per week. The best that "priority" can get me is eight hours a week? Thanks but no thanks. Any guilt I might have felt about accepting a job at another bookstore (if I'm offered a job at another bookstore) immediately evaporated.
I don't think they're trying to force me out (I know some managers reduce hours as a tactic to get rid of unwanted employees) because they're always telling me how much they love me and how crucial I am to running the store. Money's tight and I understand that. But it's been a year, and I'm not getting any sort of annual wage increase (when I asked they dodged the question) so it's time to find a company that either values my time more or can afford to pay for more of it.
But on the plus side, now that I've got more free time I can finally get back to a yoga studio.
(I just don't know how I'll pay for it.)