Ok, so here's what's been going on with work:
I started work the end of last April, after I withdrew from the semester at school, and worked there through the summer and the fall semester, which I'd taken off. But I knew I was going to be going back to school in the spring (read: end of January), and I had the breast surgery scheduled for the middle of January, so I submitted my two weeks' notice right after New Year's. Boss told me not to quit, and that she'd arrange leave for me. I knew there was no appropriate type of leave (I'd gone through the policy book twice already), but I was busy with medical stuff and going back to school, so I didn't worry about it.
Was at school from the end of January until mid-May, and then came back to work without any technical difficulties. But my Boss, idiot that she is, realised that I was due for a raise right before I left, so she poked at the company to try to get them to give it to me. Admirable, yes, but her prodding alerted the company to the "leave" I took, which my dear Boss said was medical. Fast-forward three to five business days, when a packet of papers to apply for retroactive medical leave appeared in my mailbox. Insert panic attack here.
Went into work the next day to make sure that there hadn't been a mistake, since I was vastly ineligible for this kind of leave, and would need a doctor's note to even apply for it, but Boss said it was fine, and that I should fill out the forms anyway. More panic, three phone calls to the company (one each to general leave administration somewhere in the Midwest, the regional partner resource manager, and to the corporate leave officer in Seattle), and it was established that Boss had never formally applied for my leave; she just didn't schedule me for five months. And since I didn't have any trouble with the computers and I didn't really care about the damned raise anyway, corporate said it didn't matter and I didn't have to worry about any paperwork. I was convinced in all of this that I was going to get my ass fired, either by the company or by the Boss, but I got damned lucky.
Gonna insist on quitting in August, though, I think, since I'm hoping to have a theatrical job next summer. As fun as the barista thing is, I need to start working in my chosen profession, ya know?
That being said, the fourth was hellish. I knew it was going to be, but Boss didn't schedule enough people, so it was a nightmare. Didn't have any piss customers, though, so I guess it was a success. But seriously: I was thisclose to strangling a few of the screaming children. And really, how hard is it to understand the concept of getting back in your original place in the damned line so that you don't fuck up the order? Swear to God, we should require an IQ test before we give people their coffee. And what's with the puddles on the floor of the bathrooms? Come on, people, really.
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