minimum wage, minimum motivation -- dream analysis

I try to remember what it was like to make minimum wage. I held several jobs throughout school and after where I was paid the legal minimum, including a video rental store. The motto there was "If you can lean, you can clean," meaning that no one was allowed to lean (or, God forbid, sit) on the counter, even at 10 a.m. when no one was in the store. You had to keep yourself busy; if all you could find to do was cleaning, you did it. We got around it every now and then, devising games of finding the spots where the cameras couldn't see you and taking a break there, or seeing who could count their change the fastest and most accurately, etc.-- it was a boring place sometimes. But usually we kept to the motto.

It's stuck with me over the years, too. Later on, when I changed employment but had only bumped myself up a dollar or two in pay, I realized that the days I kept busy and actually accomplished something were so much more rewarding and less boring than the days where I did a crossword puzzle or played Pop It all day. Unfortunately one of those years was at a university, and when you work for a big state-run facility where no one cares and is just trying to skate by unnoticed, doing extra work is sometimes frowned upon. I didn't do well in that environment.

That's why I do so well here. If nothing else, I am industrious. Sure, I have days where I am more idle than others, where I may read a news article or two to break up the otherwise busy day, where I may take twenty minutes and write a blog post like this one. But for the most part, I stay busy, even if busy means just reading chat logs from our call center to make sure they're doing a good job. When I get home, that's when I'm lazy (just ask my husband), but no one accuses me of being a sloth at work.

So I guess that's why I get so frustrated with our call center workers. They make between $8 and $10 an hour on average, but they act like we're paying them in peanuts. Peanuts they don't even want. I walked by earlier, and one had his feet up on his desk, literally twiddling his thumbs. I sit with my feet up a lot, too, but my fingers are always crazy dancing over this keyboard, my right hand swinging the mouse around, my shoulder holding the phone to my ear. I'm struggling trying to do my work and also find things to keep them busy. I need them to keep themselves busy, so I'm trying to motivate them to do so, but something is missing. Maybe I just need a big poster-- IF YOU CAN LEAN, YOU CAN CLEAN-- in bold letters right over their desks. Sure it doesn't really apply here as I don't them them to clean, just actively reach out to customers or troubleshoot some issues. But the message gets across. I guess I'm not doing a good job hiring leaders either. I wish I could put my finger on the resolution.

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I had a weird dream last night. I wish I could remember more of it now; my dreams fade so quickly. In high school, my best friend was a guy. Actually he was my friend starting in 7th grade. He went away to boarding school, but we kept in touch while he was gone, and he came back in 11th. I always wanted more from him, and I still consider him my first love though nothing was ever acted upon. He has never confirmed it to me, but I think he may be gay. He doesn't have girlfriends, and he just sometimes gives off an air of... difference. His parents are very conservative, and we came from a very gossip-prone town, so I don't blame him for keeping it quiet if it's true. I talk to him now once every six months or so, and we always seem to pick up like we were never apart. That's true for all my best friends. It must be some sort of subconscious requirement I place on anyone labeled a "best" for me, that ability to pick up where we left off no matter the time that has past, because it's true of the four that I have.

I digress. I dream about him a lot. Last night I know we were walking in a garden, we were young again, I could tell by the way we looked, and we were holding hands. It wasn't a romantic dream, though, more like we had just been apart for a while and were so happy to see each other. We went swimming-- I remember my red two-piece suit, but when we came up from the water, he wasn't my friend anymore, he was my ex-boyfriend.

My high school/early college boyfriend drove me and my friend apart. He and my friend did not get along, enemies from boarding school, and when the boyfriend came around, the friend took a backseat. I shouldn't have let it happen, but I was a kid, a mess up kid, a messed up kid in what I thought was love but really turns out was probably only pity and commiseration. We never were able to get back to what we were, even after the ex was out of the picture, because we had both moved off to college and started our own lives. But he has somehow wedged himself into my subconscious. I hear that sometimes people have strong dreams like this about loved ones who have died, and every time I have a dream about him, they are strong and lifelike, and I worry about him. I told him one time that I dream about him, and he said he dreams about me too, so I guess we're just somehow linked in that way.

I wasn't unhappy to see my ex in the dream, but I did feel a loss that it was no longer my friend. The ex and I did not end on good terms. We dated four years, the last year was made up mostly of fighting and me trying to cut him loose. He was suicidal and depressed, and I was always afraid he'd jump off the deep end, but I finally decided I had to take care of myself. It took me too long to come to that conclusion, looking back. But in the end, those decisions led me to my husband, and that's all that matters now.

When I got to work this morning, I realized it's my ex's birthday today. I wonder if this all wasn't my subconscious playing with me. I get updates on him from time to time-- he still lives in my hometown and waits tables at a restaurant my parents go to often. Mom says she always makes him speak to her even though she can tell he'd rather avoid them. They thank goodness every day I didn't end up with him. I do too. The only part of our relationship I regret, though, is losing touch with my friend over it. Maybe my brain is trying to tell me to reach out to him again.