Early Thursday morning, in a house located in central Tucson, a wife was waking up to find her husband sound asleep. It was his birthday, so she decided to let him rest, while she got their two children ready for school. When she got home, she found her husband wide awake, demanding to know why he had to hear "Happy Birthday" from someone other than his wife. Was it so hard to wish him a happy birthday and let him rest? Was it so hard to make his special day, special? It was a very, merry, un-happy birthday indeed, for both my friend Alice and her husband Azten.
The moment she walked into the flower shop, I knew something was wrong. We opened for business in silence. Mainly because I didnt know how to ask Alice if she wanted to talk about what was disturbing her. And also because I broke another glass vase.
Eventually though, Alice did confide in me, after reciving a most troubling text from Azten that read, "I feel as though you're taking advantage of me."
ALICE: He takes advantage of me. I'm the one that gets the kids up. I'm the one that feeds them and gets them ready for school. I'm the one that gets dinner ready and reminds him to help the kids with their homework. I'm the one that pays the bills and I'm the one that...well, sorta cleans the house. And I'm the one that takes advantage of him?!
Clearly, this was a marriage of disadvantage proportions. And while both parties argued their points of view through phone texts, I couldn't side with anyone. Sure, Alice was my friend and all, but she was capable of taking advantage of people. In fact, her most recent victim wasn't Azten. It was me.
As I looked at the work schedule, I realized Alice had only scheduled me for a grand total of eight hours of work. For the week. And for the following week as well. Was I really working only two days a week? I knew it was part-time, but eight hours was a full-joke. I needed to talk to Alice. But how?
I hinted that I was capable of working more than just two days with all my free time, but Alice only suggested I take more classes. And so I wonder...how do I talk to Alice about my job woes? As a friend? Or as an employee? Is it at all possible we can define the line that separates our professional life from our personal one?
The moment she walked into the flower shop, I knew something was wrong. We opened for business in silence. Mainly because I didnt know how to ask Alice if she wanted to talk about what was disturbing her. And also because I broke another glass vase.
Eventually though, Alice did confide in me, after reciving a most troubling text from Azten that read, "I feel as though you're taking advantage of me."
ALICE: He takes advantage of me. I'm the one that gets the kids up. I'm the one that feeds them and gets them ready for school. I'm the one that gets dinner ready and reminds him to help the kids with their homework. I'm the one that pays the bills and I'm the one that...well, sorta cleans the house. And I'm the one that takes advantage of him?!
Clearly, this was a marriage of disadvantage proportions. And while both parties argued their points of view through phone texts, I couldn't side with anyone. Sure, Alice was my friend and all, but she was capable of taking advantage of people. In fact, her most recent victim wasn't Azten. It was me.
As I looked at the work schedule, I realized Alice had only scheduled me for a grand total of eight hours of work. For the week. And for the following week as well. Was I really working only two days a week? I knew it was part-time, but eight hours was a full-joke. I needed to talk to Alice. But how?
I hinted that I was capable of working more than just two days with all my free time, but Alice only suggested I take more classes. And so I wonder...how do I talk to Alice about my job woes? As a friend? Or as an employee? Is it at all possible we can define the line that separates our professional life from our personal one?
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