MENTAL HEALTH | JOBS

Too Weak to Quiet Quit? Work Your Fingers to the Bone, Devalued, and Empty Handed

I was asked to do the unthinkable.

My mental health plummeted. Self-worth was on the line and teetered toward extinction.

And, it was all my fault.

I was weak.

When dinosaurs roamed free, we referred to employees that came in, worked, and then left, as clock punchers. It was a slur like no other.

I resented but envied those people for making the same rate as I did, for doing much less.

In the corporate world, though, it paid off to do extra.

I was recognized, promoted, and received raises with bonuses. There was a ladder to climb for upward mobility. I reaped the benefits of going the extra mile.

The clock punchers were left in the dust.

But, that was then.

Enter today’s fancy new terminology for clock punchers:

Quiet Quitting

This fresh label, for an age-old mindset, keeps surfacing as the latest buzzwords will. Quiet quitting isn’t about leaving your job. In fact, it is about doing your job.

Only.

No extra duties are accepted, and no staying late or assuming functions that you weren’t hired to do.

Quiet quitting holds an important place. In jobs, versus careers, it can make a difference in your mental wellness, family life, socialization, and sense of self.

Reentry to the Work World 2019

In my appreciation for being hired at an awful time in my life, I went overboard to do the seemingly little extras. My boss was thrilled.

I explained that I enjoyed tending to the tasks that annoyed her.

You have enough stress, let me alleviate what I can.

I meant every word and continued to assume duties I wasn’t hired to do. My work ethic remained strong.

Boredom is not my friend.

Things needed to get done and I didn’t mind.

Big mistake.

Huge.

Newly divorced, I was a family pariah, vulnerable, and raising my grandson who was just a year old. The planets aligned when I answered that ad for a restaurant office manager.

My interview with the General Manager revealed that she too was a single grandma with custody of a one-year-old. Literally in the same lifeboat. We bonded and compassion went both ways.

I was hired part-time, at $12.00 an hour, to simply:

• Answer phones
• Take Reservations
• Log and pay invoices
• Balance server’s cashouts
• Create seating charts

Easy, right? Perfect to add color to my life and socialize with work cronies.

With my extensive hospitality background, the lonely emptiness I suffered filled in nicely.

By the 12-month mark, I found myself in an unusual position to request a raise. In the past, I was offered additional compensation without asking.

“Yeah, you’ll never get a raise. They won’t give me one. So, I can’t even ask them about you. I would approve it in a heartbeat but it’s not my call. I couldn’t do what I do without you. Know that.”

My year anniversary with the restaurant passed by quietly.

The next month, I gave notice.

By the time I resigned, in addition to the menial tasks I was hired to do, my days looked like this:

• Pick up the chef upon his need and give him a lift to work
• Drive to a variety of locations and pick up exotic ingredients
• Learn enough Spanish to communicate with vendors
• Organize private parties, menu choices, contracts, décor
• Drive the GM’s grandson around while she met with bigwigs
• Wet mop back office near dish machine
• Return flower pots and retrieve a new floral display from a local shop
• Make bank deposits
• Create and maintain cost charts for food, liquor, and labor
• Run to Publix for smoothie straws, 30 dozen eggs, whatever
• Help prep bar
• Shop for and hang holiday decorations
• Organize liquor room, shed, wine coolers
• Literally, anything that was asked

Hindsight is 20/20

As my first anniversary approached, I questioned an adjustment in my wages to account for the duties I assumed. I was given an award-winning dialogue about my wonderfulness.

I was denied monetary recognition.

Then, life threw me a curve ball and I planned to move across the state.

Would I still be everyone’s lackey unless I grew a spine? Probably.

With ample notice given, I assumed the duty of running ads and interviewing candidates. The framework for the position was reduced back to the original terms. Part-time, bare-bones requirements of an office manager were put on blast.

My boss and I were disappointed in the pool of applicants.

There was one potential hire though she possessed no restaurant experience. She was young and a bit unpolished. I offered to train her and she began shadowing me.

Rough, but hopeful.

It was obvious that she would not multitask as I did, but filling the void of the restaurant’s basic needs was vital.

The Value of Employees

During payroll input that week, I questioned my boss as I entered the new hire, my replacement, into the system. What did you offer her in pay?

She thought for a minute and replied the unthinkable.

“Put her in at $14.00 an hour because no one would work for $12.00, it’s not enough to get people in the door.”

No shiite.

My face flushed.

I refused.

The new hire would be overpaid even at my rate. I plugged in $11.00.

How does the once barren budget support 14 freakin’ dollars an hour for an inexperienced newbie?

I was mortified to know that all of my hard work, though appreciated, meant nothing in the end. Inside, I questioned everything.

Did they beg me to stay because of my professionalism, skills, and willingness to be a team player, or because they got a bang for their buck at my expense?

Calculating my gas expenses, extra time to run errands after I clocked out, and no payment for attending fundraisers as a restaurant representative, I wondered if I even netted half of what I was paid.

Depression crept in. I had to stop analyzing after a few months.

I couldn’t get past that I was asked to insert a higher rate for my replacement after being denied a raise.

Self-flagellation exhausted me.

Food for Thought

In a career world, quiet quitting is counter-productive to growth. Upward mobility requires more effort if that’s your goal. Years ago, I enjoyed the benefits of proving myself.

In a part-time, filler job, clocking in and clocking out is a viable, healthy, option.

Because quiet quitting didn’t come naturally to me, sticking within the pre-determined parameters of my position, I paid the price both monetarily and with my mental health.

Deflated.

Self-sabotaged and defeated, I wasted a lot of time wondering what was wrong with me. Now I know I control my involvement level and there are alternatives to my old ways.

I’d be a fool to discount the obvious.

I was just an employee.

I walked away with my head held high regardless of their willingness to recognize my efforts in pay. The bottom line has everything to do with how I viewed my contributions.

Upon reflection, I am proud that I pulled my weight as well as set a high standard. Quiet quitting is worth considering in the future, though, and it is a worthy choice with a name.

My choice.

And yours.

There is nothing wrong with knowing your worth.

There is nothing wrong with quiet quitting.

Go into a job with the mindset that works for you.

Your mental health will thank you.

The act of quiet quitting has been going on for years but now has a fancy, fresh name.

I was inspired to relive my angst based on this story by Daniella Montage.

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