Payday was last Friday. I went to work with baby and friend in tow. Ran in through the pouring rain, grabbed my check and left. We aren't allowed to get our pay checks until 4 p.m. Total crock of crap. So after work, I have to drive back to work to get my check, because if I don't get it on Friday afternoon and drive all the way back to Covington (because that's where my bank is...down the street) I won't be able to deposit it until Monday because I work on Saturdays and the bank will be closed before I get off. HELLO! GAS IS LIKE $5!! Whew. Anyhoo...
I got out to the car and opened my check. There's always that sense of excitement, like hearing lottery numbers that are so close to the ones you have on your ticket, but are always one number off. I looked at my pay stub and my heart sank. This is wrong. This cannot be all I made.
The next day I went into work and told a girl there that my check was off by quite a bit. She said, "Oh yeah, girl. [The owners] were out of town so we only got paid for the first week. You have to wait until the next pay period for the rest of it." What. The. Effing. H.
I went out to the desk and asked before my first massage because I didn't want to transport negative I will kill someone if I have to energy through my fingertips into my client. I said, "I have a question about my paycheck." The receptionist said, "We paid you for a week. You can have the rest next pay period." She must've noticed from the look on her face that I was about to go postal. Or, I guess that would be spatal. "Or, they can cut you a check on Tuesday."
Thank you.
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