Mr. Cellophane

In a location adjacent to a place in a city of some significance, what comes out of my head is plastered on the walls of this blog.

Saturday, May 23, 2020

The last few weeks saw me living the dream: an honest week's pay for an honest day's work.

Work is trickling down at my job, leaving me with only a few actual hours of work every day. To keep the work going at a steady pace and to cut down on potential health crises, me and my fellow workers have been reporting in on alternating weeks. (And as a neat little bonus, we've been filling out timesheets so we can collect pay even for weeks we don't have to leave for work. Not bad.)

Apparently, with things opening back up, I'm having to go back to working every week. On top of that, we're only getting paid for the hours we work. From 40 hours worth of cash a week to, at best, 16-20.

I can only hope that rumors of further stimulus assistance are true. I can only get by on so much (and some of that money would really take a chunk out of my back debts; more on that in a future post).

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