It’s really heating up, the strike is on. There are picket lines blocking the entrance to my job. My union is not joking.
At this point I actually support the strike in theory; we do deserve a decent cost of living raise. 0%, 2%, 2.25% over three years is only O.K., but there is a psychological blow when someone offers you a 0% raise, it just hurts. At least they could have played with the numbers so we would get at a 1% raise the first year. Play with the numbers, there are enough accountants to figure out how to give us the same monetary increase but with a different disbursement scheme. At least let the contract be a pleasant fiction. Don’t give us the mushroom treatment, leave us in the dark, feed us shit and expect us to grow.
In practice, the strike is a crock of shit. If you want some more money then step up your skills and get some more money. As Little Wayne would say
Bang this shit nigga pump my shit (yeah)
You gotta bang that wimp and go and dump that bitch (yeah)
You gotta claim that strip and go and flood that bitch (yeah)
As for me I’m sitting at work, while my compatriots are out there striking,
Why,
Well I’m because I’m a serf in the fiefdom of “The Man”, didn’t you know.
This whole situation is frustrating. In anticipation of the strike I scheduled a tattoo appointment, for today at 2pm, now my boss is telling me that there is a problem if I leave early. Damn.
I have to figure out a way out of this work stuff. Its so restricting, everyone has to answer to someone, but when you live a more independent life there are fewer people to answer to.
