Fruit of my Labor

August 1, 2013

I expected for the usual salary that cut-off. But, lo and behold, the HR already adjusted my rate according to my MA units earned, and so there was the increase in my salary. I know it was not enough, but I gave them something to suffice, somehow. I gave them their part. And yet, it was never enough for them. Never. They asked for another and another and another until the tenth time and it was excruciating to hear and see texts from them second after second reminding me of my “obligation”, as if I have not given them enough. For me, the increase in my salary was a grace from God because I asked Him for it. I had too much payable myself and I know that the unadjusted salary will not be enough to pay for everything. And so the sudden increase was an answered prayer which I did the night before the cut-off.

I wanted to teach my class as enthusiastic as I can but how could I do that if I kept on thinking of their texts and how to get the extra money that they “need’.

I felt so sick and tired of the whole scenario in rerun in my mind and in my soul. All philosophies break lose. I took them for granted. Bad, wrong, and immoral and selfish as it may sound but I ignored their plea. There was really nothing I can give anymore. And even if there was really still some to spare, I was traumatized already to have the energy to give it to them. To those who said not to bite the hand that feeds you is utterly correct. I felt I couldn’t stand anymore the unjust treatment.

And what do I get in return?! Huh?! What do I get in return?! Nothing! Do I get a thank you? No! Do I get a hot soup every time I felt cold because of menstrual cramps? No!

And what do you get from me?! You get a fruit of my labor and ask for its roots.     

Do I complain? Huh?! Do I complain?

Don’t wait for me to complain. If that time comes… you will never see me again.