It’s finally happened. My $60,000 a year, easy, but unfulfilling job has started up again!
Backstory – What’s My Full time Job
I work for a family that lives in the fancy part of West Angeles – you’ll happen to know the neighborhood I speak of if you know the geography of LA – as a Personal Assistant. This job can mean I do anything from
Choosing. scheduling, and managing vendors, like handyman, painters, housekeeping staff, etc
Chauffeuring the principals (that’s the name for the people that employ you as a domestic household employee) and their children
Performing personal shopping, which can arrange from picking up my one carrot at the grocery store to picking up a $36,000 multi carat ring at a high end boutique
Walking the dog
Managing the extracurriculars and tutoring of the principals’ children
So on and so forth
That’s cool. I like the variety of ever shifting tasks in such a role.
However, the reality is that by March, right when Covid-19 struck Los Angeles and put my work on hold, I had entered a pretty toxic relationship with one of the principals and her children.
Essentially, she was stressed out from the nearing pandemic and was attempting to panic buy a bunch of products that were sold out at stores – hand sanitizer, n90 masks, Clorox wipes. I managed to find some of these items by calling around to the pharmacies, and hardware, office supply, and grocery stores and driving around LA, when traffic was still at its height. However, no matter what I brought to her, she was still unhappy with my work. The last time I saw her, she refused to look me in the eye and talk to me, and I just dodged her the rest of the evening that I was in her home.
Her unhappiness travels like a poison around her home, as she is a stay at home mother, and therefore always around, and always involved in every single aspect of her household. Nothing goes without her notice, likely because my principals keep their home under full surveillance with cameras everywhere – that the 11 year old son was kind enough to point out to me five months into my working there.
Anyway, she was being a big old jerk and her stress and anguish was making her children act like turds. That last three weeks of working in their household, her son and daughter could not be bothered to do anything proactive. All they did was complain and complain.
“Do I have to go to tennis (with my $120/hour coaches that my mom spends nearly a $1,000 a week on for me to hate and play mediocrely at)?”
“Do I have to meet with my writing tutor (who has helped me tremendously and who also costs $120/hour, and is one of five tutors I see a week to keep up at my school)?”
And on, and on, my car, and my ears, were host to a barrage of ungrateful, tactless, and overprivileged whining.
And Then Like a Miracle, Covid19 Graced Us with its All Consuming Presence
And I’m like:
No. I’m just kidding. Covid 19 riddled me with anxiety and took me down emotionally, just like it did with everyone else. I’ve only recently been able to take a look at my finances again. We’ve lost at least $20,000 this year in unearned income on our properties and in retirement savings losses.
But it did grant me three months of (paid) mostly peace and quiet from this family who has once riddled me with anxiety.
Now I Stand at a Crux.
Do I Return to Work for the Family Who Treated Me Like a Punching Bag, But Who Was Kind Enough to Pay Me During the Shutdown, and Who Seems to Have Been Neutralized By the Whole Affair?
I already have a ticket booked to NYC on May 29 because my husband and I have to return to the city to flip two of our properties from Airbnb rentals to annual rentals because no one is booking on Airbnb anymore.
I thought I could smoothly spend sometime in NYC unnoticed because they’ve generally only been assigning me virtual work.
However, this week I have received two IRL work requests this week – one a grocery shopping and taking their dog to a veterinarian appointment, a second to take the son and his friend to a surf lesson. I completed the first of the two days of IRL tasks, and the mother and her son both seemed normal enough when I saw them. They actually even seemed happy to see me. It was so unexpected after how I had been treated the last time I saw them.
Ok. Enough context. Here are my choices.
1) Quit my job
2) Return to work, assuming this is a fresh new start, and all is forgiven
3) Request to return to work part time
I lean towards the latter of these three options because
As the mother grew further disgruntled with me – she always disliked how chipper I was in a household lined with sarcasm and put owns, and that I would voice my opinion at every turn, if it involved the welfare of the children, even if it was in opposition to her – I had been reassigned to spending half the day in the commercial real estate office of her husband. I had spoken no more than 100 words with him since I was hired, and all of the sudden, here I was reporting to the Los Angeles office of his company, despite his only coming in an eighth of the days I went in. Just near anonymously dropped into an office work environment, with no training, and with a staff who seemed to have no idea who I was out want to do with me, other than my arranging for FedEx shipments and cleaning and stocking the kitchen.
The work was easy, but dull. Reflecting upon the robotic like trance with which I would enter the office each day, I can’t help but feel time, energy, my soul, were drained from me each day I stepped into that office, even if the work paid well and was hardly work at all. I just generally dislike office culture.
And I want to work with kids. I love being families. That’s where I want to be. That’s my passion.
To be continued…