Pickin Cotton

I work in a fabric store.

Up until a few months ago I enjoyed my job. I adore my coworkers and my work was challenging, creative and fun. I built up our Facebook page from 200 to over 6000, wrote some blogs, sent out email sales and newsletters.     I designed a look, and generally was the Social Media go to girl. Until the young forman arrived. Suddenly the majority of my job resonsibilites were taken from me without a word. Well, there were a few words that came in the form of commands. I was to help the young bucks with ideas, direction and design ideas as well.

Nah, I don't think so.

Turns out I know the pulse of our readers and what they want. The Foreman tells me not to change anything I do on Facebook, because it works so well. I do anyway....when I think I can improve it. The sad part is I still like that part of my job. I hate not being acknowledged or appreciated for a job well done. Of course this kid makes twice what I do as a part-time consultant and he farms out the design (if you can call it that) to Pakistan.

Am I surprised? No, I've rarely been appreciated for my talents. In reality it may be partially my fault, I don't demand much. But between the glass ceiling and now the gray ceiling. It's hard to know the real reason.

I'm sure there's another plantation that can use some cheap help.