Raising the Bars

Ever get the feeling that the raise you received was a monetary form of imprisonment? You hear that CHA-CHING sound at same time as the KER-CHUNG sound of the bars locking in place, and wonder…

I expressed interest in a sales position here at my company, and even got some of the training tapes. Then the company decided on a new policy: you can’t apply for a new opening until you’ve been in your old one for one year.

Eeeeenteresting. Okay, so, they tried to soften the blow with an 8% raise. And it was nice to get, but the sales position might’ve meant as much as a 100% raise.

“Might’ve.” Here we have a bird in the hand worth two in the sales-quota sorta thing. I’m not complaining, I’m just saying they ain’t paying me what I’m worth yet. But then, I haven’t yet shown them what I’m worth, so I’m getting what I deserve.

Just not what I think I’m WORTH.

Live from Westlake Village

Move went.

(In contrast to “move went well.”)

Well, that’s ungrateful of me. Truth be told, the move DID go well, thanks in part to Lauren Woodhouse, who babysat while Rebecca and I moved, and who also helped move stuff while I took the truck back to Santa Clarita. Rebecca and I had to kneel in prayer when all was said and done, because we were so grateful the move was completed in one day, within a variety of constraints, and despite our lack of better preparation.

Rebecca’s back in Santa Clarita today, while I’m trying to listen to conference via webcast here at the office. I mean the ACTUAL office, not some nice home office. I can’t sit still and listen while I’m sitting at my desk, though. I feel like I need to be using this keyboard. Hence this entry, I suppose.

Might have some more income incoming. More later.