I called In

Once upon a time I worked for a clothing retailer. I was hired as an art director and designer there, and this particular company did provide paid sick time. If I remember correctly, we had about six days paid sick time off per year. I sheepishly admit I wasn't always - ahem - as sick as I claimed to be on certain occasions for this company. But I promise, I wasn't the worst offender.

Maybe you've read some negative headlines about sick days in the USA. How America's sick leave fails workers, and how theres a lack of federal standards for sick time. Besides the fact that Americans work very hard, and sick time is limited, there does exist some checks and balances. One thing about Americans is they can be extremely creative and we do manipulate the rules.

I'm sure all of us have been there when a colleague tells everyone about a concert over the weekend, and calls in sick for two days starting on the following week - so perhaps it isn't the flu. Or if they had a family member coming in to visit they might suddenly get a cold. Or a cough, maybe an ear ache. Maybe they had planned a trip to Key West. Too bad on Friday, they felt a bit under the weather - and couldn't come in as planned. Perhaps it was Pink Eye. Pink Eye was a good one because everyone knew that one was very contagious. People can get amazingly creative with ailments and excuses. :)

I supposed some of you might cringe at these commonplace excuses,  while others shrug and say so what. But also hear me out as graphic designers get the brunt of the work and the dead in deadlines here. At the time we worked very late into the evening hours while other departments slipped out the door by 4:30pm. Even so, we used to get comments about how much fun our jobs must be. Although its difficult to convey humor in my blogs, or sharp sarcasm, I would smile and joke around saying that I loved it so much I was working there for free.

Another question thrown at me pretty often was if I was a good artist. "Are you any good?" It was pretty annoying "Good at what?" I would ask.  You have to understand how absurd this question really was to me. What could I possibly say in return? A skewed personal opinion of my talent? Of course I'm good, since I make a professional living from it. There were also the painting commissions requests. I used to get asked for those too. Art gone awry when suddenly asked if I can paint a Greek village scene for someone's living room. (I wouldn't recommend something as cliche as that - it wouldn't be considered that unique or even valuable for an original painting)  But the funny part is how poorly thought out the question really was. "Sure," I would say. "Just leave the key under the front door for me. I'll let myself in and do that painting for you - right above your sofa. But I got off the subject a bit here, back to my original story...

And we did enjoy our work there at times. Before or after a photo shoot I used to play music during the shoots to calm down the nerves of the models, and talk with our staff photographer. The designers got along well, and I used to learn martial art moves from one of the other designers who had a black belt.

During overtime, management would leave us in the dark there, as they had power savings issues to take care of, so we would work next to our lamps, in the dark dark pitch blackness of the bleak 3rd floor advertising department. Our jobs were demanding and designers suffer from burn-out because our jobs entail more than phone calls or emails or meetings.

But getting back to my call in confession, one of the the worst one day flu's I ever came down with was a day I went deep sea fishing. Yes, the old cliche - gone fishing - happened to me after a morning my mother called to tell me she and my father were going deep sea fishing in Ft. Myers for a half day. She told me IF I jumped in the car (a 3 hour drive south) I could make it in time and she would cover the cost. I told her yes, hung up,  and called in. I grabbed a map, jumped into my car - a speedy Honda Civic at the time, and headed down.

I'm certain I broke the speed limit. Oh the laws and regulations I broke that day! I admit I do get a little thrill about breaking any rule. I'm sure I put the pedal to the metal at over 90 MPH on certain segments of the highway down. Over the phone to my supervisor I coughed a few times like I was near death.

I found the dock, parked the car, ran for the boat, and literally jumped over a steel grid ramp as the fishing boat began backing out of its dock. One of the crew reached out to me and said my name. "You must be Kim." I nodded and he grabbed my hand firmly to help me onboard. I looked back and watched the engines churn through the deep ocean water. I laughed and hugged my mother who laughed also with relief. "You made it!" she said over and over. "I wasn't sure how long they'd hold the boat." Well, I made it. The best part of this day in life, was just spending some time with her, and actually catching a few grouper.

It was worth it, I thought, to break some rules and carve a little time to spend with her, even though I lied. Yes, it was a fib, but I cherish these moments in time. Under circumstances in the past, when I went the extra mile and worked hard for a company, but felt I was treated unfairly I would even call in sick to interview for a new position. Another work tradition so to speak. I suppose I  never trusted management of playing fair if they didn't pay me very much, but I was too important to be given time off.  I do like to work, but I think Americans desperately need more family to work balance. But one thing I've also learned from experience is jobs can come and go, but family stands behind you in the good times, and the bad.






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