Sixty-seven

Sometimes you have days
where, the moment you close the
door, the tears won't stop.

The following letter is brought to you by the same situation that caused said tears and Sarah's passive aggressive nature.

Dear [insert name of summer camp at which I am working],
When I expressed interest in working at your camp early this year, you lead me to believe that I would be able to work full time, or very close to it. In fact, at no point in time prior to beginning my work with you in May did I believe differently. Particularly when, a month before I started working there, you gave me my schedule of 8 hours a day 5 days a week. In case you were not aware 8x5=40. The pay was significantly less than what I was making at my other job, and also significantly less than what I made at the previous summer camp/day care at which I worked, but I didn't care. I was excited about working with kids again, and excited to do something other than answer phones all summer.

I took the job with no reservations, and for some strange reason, when you told me that I would work 40 hours (or close to it as there was a possibility of only about 37.5, which you made clear, and I was fine with), I actually believed you. As strange as it may seem, I actually expect people to follow through on their word.

I'm sure you can imagine my surprise, disgust, frustration, and straight up anger when you began hinting at cutting hours. I was annoyed when you cut an hour a few weeks ago, but I figured it was just an hour and nothing to worry about. And then you asked me if I was still working my other job. Yes. The reason I chose to work two jobs, to work 50 hours each week, was because I have no idea what on earth I will be doing starting in December and I kind of wanted to start building up the savings that have dwindled over the last two years because I have been paying for grad school. I was concerned. You told me not to worry yet. Then you told me you were going to crunch the numbers, but then didn't say anything. And then you asked me if I could get more hours at my other job. I told you maybe, but probably not. You see, I told my other boss, the one who is unbelievably flexible with me, appreciates me for my work ethic and integrity, and who I trust and respect, that I could only work 10 hours a week. She scheduled me for 10 hours a week and gave other people hours the hours that they requested and that were available. Again, though, you told me not to worry yet. You even had the gall to joke that I shouldn't worry until my electricity was turned off. I will have you know that I am far more responsible than that and would sooner starve than not pay a bill. I happen to have this trust, an agreement, with my electricity provider. They supply me with electricity each month so that I don't die from the heat that infiltrates the south in the summer. In return, they expect me to pay for the electricity at the beginning of the following month, and I, unlike you, happen to believe that my word means something, and I intend to keep it that way.

And then you tell my coworkers that you need to "talk to me" when I arrive, and that I need to go find you. And you proceed to tell me that you have to cut 14 of my hours, including an entire day, unless I would like to work for 3 hours on that given day. And then you had the gall to tell me you would "understand" if I needed to look for work elsewhere. Damn right you would understand. You also had the guts to tell me it was my mom's fault that I was born too late because I haven't turned 25 yet, which means I can't drive on field trips. Bull.shit. You would have had to cut hours somewhere. You would have cut mine because I am the newest, and you know it. You are just trying to find an excuse to make it seem not as bad or like it is out of your hands. The least you could do is own it.

The problem is that by the end of June, most places are not looking for summer workers. Other camps that needed workers hired them months ago, people have nannies and other summer care taken care of, and high schoolers and students home from college have taken most of the remainder of jobs available; most of which are retail or service based.

This. This is why people, why Americans, are distancing themselves from God. Because, in the words of Ghandi, "I like your Christ. I do not like your Christians. They are so unlike your Christ." You say one thing, you do another. Things are fine, then they aren't, then they are okay again, but they're really not. I understand that you need to not be in the red, but I also understand that you are not a business. You are a ministry. This is not a for-profit organization. I understand that you offered me a job you didn't have the finances to cover. Hell, from the way you are acting and talking, it seems as if you offered me a position for a job you didn't really need to be filled. You keep telling me that you have covered this camp without my position in the past. If you didn't need me, you could have, oh I don't know, not offered me the job! I also understand that there was some piss poor planning on your part.

I wish I could afford to tell you to stick it where the sun don't shine, tell you that your words and apologies are worthless, and remind you that, as a representative of Christ, you aren't representing Christ.

Not that you care, but you should also know that I get angry about once every two years, and that when I have my semiannual cry, it is usually a frustration cry, not a pained or sad cry. Congratu-freaking-lations on accomplishing the semiannual and biannual events in the same day. I mean, truly, that is an accomplishment. You should be proud of yourself.

Loathingly yours,
Sarah