One Chicken, Two Chickens...

I am a bit beside myself this evening (a tremendous understatement). In July, I wrote a post about my "secret" promotion, which now is far, far from secret. At my school district's administration meeting yesterday, my colleagues were openly congratulating me. One person even gave me a hug. What these people did not know was I had just left a meeting where I learned that what I thought my salary was going to be is no where near what I was going to be offered. Yet during a preliminary meeting in July, I presented what I wanted as a salary, and no one made any indication that I was not even close.

Since yesterday I have consulted a lawyer and had a second negiotiation meeting, all to no avail. Th big bosses want me to take this newly created job (absorbing the full responsibilities of someone's previous job while also fulfilling my current responsibilites) when my take home pay increase will equal less than what I spent on first car, a 1986 Dodge Daytona (w/ t-tops of course). It is a huge job. It is a shitty offer. I have 24 hours to make a decision. But I will give you a preview of how the phone conversation will go...

"Hi Very Friendly Admin Assistant...is Big Boss available?"

"Sure, Working Mom. I'll put you through. Oh, by the way, congratulations on your new job! I think that's wonderful."

"Ummm...Thanks Very Friendly Admin Assistant."

"Working Mom? It's Big Boss. How are you today?"

"Good, good. Listen, I know you are busy so let me cut to the chase."

"OK, great."

"You have offered me what basically constitutes my dream job, one that will challenge me and thrill me, a job that I will somehow work even harder than I already do to make sure I am successful, therefore making our school district successful. During all of our discussions you have given me some truly fantastic compliments and assured me that I am the person you want to do this job. At each meeting, you stated that you are fully confident that I am the individual who can make this supervisory model work. It has all been so kind of you to share that with me."

"Well, Working Mom, all the school administrators feel that way. We know you are the person for this job."

"Again, Big Boss, thanks. But you see, Big Boss, I drive a Ford now, and I really have no need for a 1986 Dodge Daytona. Nor do I need a new Pottery Barn throw rug (the big one). And I certainly don't need those extra funds to splurge on a Prada bag (not retail price, of course but we all know I love Ebay). It just doesn't seem fair to my colleagues for me to accept this district position, which oversees the curriculum development and implementation for over 7,000 students, professonial development training for approximately 200 teachers, direct supervision of over 35 department members, and then flaunt the fact that I was able to use my raise to buy a pair of used skis for Princess."

"I see."

"So I am going to have to say no to my dream job. I'm sure you understand."

Okay. It probably will go more along these lines....

"I have carefully considered your offer, taking numerous factors into account while doing so. Since it is a job I want to do and one I know I would love, you can imagine how difficult it is to me to say no. I can't do it. My bottom number is still thousands away from your best offer. The position is worth more than that. I am worth more than that. And the additional time I will spend away from Princess is worth more than that. I also know that while you have promised me you will not dissolve my current position, by turning this job down I am destroying any additional possibilities for career advancement here, at a school I really love. But I stand by what I said yesterday; the salary offer is unfair and unreasonable. And as hard as I have tried to do so, I cannot justify accepting it, knowing how much it will cost me and my family."

And then I will hang up the phone and cry. Or I might wait until I get into my car (that is where I have been doing much of my sobbing these last two days). I don't know. I'll be on pins and needles waiting to see how long I can control the lump in my throat.

So a lesson, my friends. When you count your chickens, make sure everyone involved in this exercise is counting eggs in the same coop, or you might end up like me...with slimy yolk all over your face.