I’ve been at the new job for a week now. Three more and I can head home. The days are full: I wake up, wash, commute, clock in, and then it’s a busy stretch until quitting time. It’s dark when I walk in and dark when I leave. Almost everyone at this store is younger than me, and the place has its share of characters. Some come in already in a bad mood and can’t adjust. The first thing out of their mouths is something like, “How can anyone be happy when we’re just beasts of burden?” Others cut corners, keeping an eye on who does a little more and who does a little less. It all feels very childish to me. At the end of the day, does doing more or less really kill you? A shift is a shift. There’s no need to drag your personal feelings into the job, or to find a corner to hide and rest. Honestly, I don’t think much of that attitude. I work for myself, and I earn for myself. More or less, it’s my own business.
Since I first entered the workforce, I’ve built a few good habits. I don’t complain about the work environment, and I don’t gossip in front of people. I’m here to work. If someone wants to vent, fine, but I let the negativity go in one ear and out the other. To me, it’s about making money. It’s been a long time since I was in a daily workplace, so I’m still adjusting. I’m also not used to being around people with low energy. It feels draining. Most of the women at the company smoke, and they smoke a lot. The room fills with smoke and it’s really unpleasant.
Sometimes it’s not about sorting people into ranks, but I do think you should avoid getting too close to people with very low awareness. Negative people with low awareness usually don’t have high emotional intelligence or strong people skills, and the areas where they can improve are narrow. At work, when there’s a problem, communication should solve the problem, not the emotion. That matters. If every day’s task is to deal with emotions, then you and everyone around you end up depressed, and over time people start slacking off.
During my first week here, I noticed there was no hand soap by the sink. I wash my hands a lot—if my hands get dirty, I want to wash them. I put up with it for a week. I thought about asking someone, but then decided not to. I sat down by the door and ordered some on Meituan. I get along fine with the people at the store; two of the younger colleagues looked at me and shook their heads, meaning “don’t buy it.” But I wanted to use it, so not buying wasn’t an option. If a workplace has to play games over a bottle of hand soap, I can’t stand it.
I’m only here for a month. If I stay even one day longer, I’ll get the company to reimburse my hotel and travel costs. Once I’m back in Tianjin, I’ll take over my own store. So for me, the best thing is just to be myself. The company has a survey system, and one item asks roughly whether the promotion path needs to be clearer. I wrote: “If the company truly doesn’t require connections and resources, could it publish the complete standards for every promotion path? It would be best to include the standard for the top position, too—just in case someone gets there.”
I submitted it and then laughed at myself. The survey team said the responses are confidential and won’t be made public. I don’t believe that for a second. If I dared to write it, do I look afraid of it being public? I just want the company to notice these things. I had planned to write about some recent reflections today, but after this week, the complaints have been bottled up too long. If I don’t get them out, I won’t feel right.