While I enjoy most aspects of my job, and colleagues for the most part are nice, lately they have found a new way to tease me with things like, ‘are you crazy’, to ‘I thought you were talking to yourself’.

Mind you, being under financial stress for the past year and a decade of job stress before that hasn’t helped. Not to mention what it was like to wear a headscarf for over a decade and the relentless taunting.

But what kills me is that they are no better. Who is really sane anyway? They say all the pain, torture, and trauma a human being endures, who can call themselves normal, without side effects?

Maybe being a female minority takes a toll on you. Maybe turning 40 in a few years means this warrior is getting tired.

We had some leads for my common-law hubby this week but it looks like a flop. So tired of employers who dangle a carrot that doesn’t bite.

Ease. Ameen.


Getting Snowed

It’s been a stressful period for my partner looking for work. It’s one thing to not hear back, its quite another to deal with people who lack integrity.

  1. Being interviewed informally with many discussions about a role for a electrician at a plant; only to be snowed in the formal interview that they are looking for a millwright instead. This is after hours and days of chatting with the hiring manager, building rapport, only to have that rug pulled out. Why waste our time and lead him on?
  2. Having recruiters hound him for his resume and credentials only to hear silence when he stated he is only providing his electrical license number upon being hired. It’s like, why do we have to self exploit all are ID numbers for the possibility of being interviewed. Theft happens.

It’s been hard for him and on us as we approach our two year anniversary next week. It doesn’t help being a temp as days off sick or company closures means lack of pay.

I’m beginning to think living in an igloo is better.

Ease. Success. Ameen.

P.S. Thank you for all your words of encouragement! We must be shiny and light like snowflakes! 🙂

Ahhh… women… they are so funny.

Caught an error at work and instead of being acknowledged, I was dismissed by one and not thanked by another. Who also happened to subtly take credit for addressing the error.

Ah well… only 48 more hours to go until she’s on mat leave. I’ve gotten so use to her pointing out my errors constantly that I’m starting to realize its not personal. Perhaps she’s unhappy with a lazy spouse or neurotic from having a second child. Who knows.

You know, I can honestly say, while guys might not be perfect, and may gossip about each other behind their backs; its much worse dealing with women who treat you as if you’re never good enough or smart as they are.


My only saving grace is more grunt work that no one wants to do as I continue this never ending temp assignment. And that our HR lady seems to see my brains as she is the only one who’s seen my overqualified resume.

Perhaps that’s it. Maybe women can sense if someone is just as smart and capable as they are and this threatens them. God forbid we promote and encourage each other to succeed.

I think this is where men and women differ in the workplace and it’s sad. We will never climb as high as we are tearing each other apart in the most passive and silent ways.

Ease. Success. Ameen.

This entry was posted on November 8, 2017. 4 Comments

Prayers for ease and protection as I lead up to two weeks before the province-next-door admin goes on mat leave and seems to find new things everyday. I don’t mind being pointed out how incorrect I am, I just really don’t enjoy being served so much doubt as I already deal with this myself.

Maybe its the vibe I get or the way some of the duties I am taking over for her weren’t listed in her task list of who is allocated to what. Or perhaps it was the way she grilled me for half an hour when I thought to do up a helpful vacation tracker for my plant. Either way, I won’t miss her. And yet, I worry I will ultimately f*** it up somehow when she’s gone.

Ah, well.

Even HR was like, whatever, we won’t be perfect and will make mistakes. It’s all good.


Last time, I checked, I’m human. I’m allowed to be as well.

Ease for cranky pregnant ladies who go ballistic (or always were?) eight months into their pregnancy and still find a way to bully me virtually.

And ease for me as I find being an office temp I get treated like I’m less than somehow. Like I couldn’t have possibly the brains or talent to have gotten a permanent job. You know, for minimum wage barely an hour, I might be better off waitering. Or like feeding animals.

Ease with hyenas and other monkey business. Ameen.

P.S. I forgot to add that one of the many joys of dealing with someone who only tells you a few of the many steps to her job is when I get scolded for it after for errors missed. Bahahaha… Ease. Ameen.

This entry was posted on October 25, 2017. 2 Comments

Pretty Smart

I wish women promoted each other more. Encouraged instead of silent disapproval. Promoted instead of judged.

Today, there was a visit from other plant managers including a female lead whom I can only guess from her mentioning of diets, isn’t always the healthiest. At first, I didn’t think much of it: what does my partner do, where do I see myself settling down, how many hours do I work. Perhaps it was me fetching downstairs their rental to see why the lights were on, only to see the car was still running (see STOP button). Or the way she ignored me by being too preoccupied with emails, which is fine. Just didn’t get a good vibe, and I didn’t really care for more conversation either.

I can only presume she’s close friends with the admin I’m covering for mat leave as I felt like I was being measured up to something. It’s so strange isn’t it. These odd things we take for importance. Or perhaps its what I’m constantly use to: my looks are presumed to be the only reason I’m hired on for my job. It’s sad we don’t see the best in each other, and that women who strive to be super are taken down a notch. You’re either smart but not that pretty. Or pretty, but not that smart.

We can be both. Masha’Allah.

Success. Ease. Victory. Ameen.

Invisible Faith

If someone had told me that wearing the headscarf meant membership by fabric only, I think I would have thought twice before enduring the decade of highs and lows I had experienced towards the end.

I had the urge to go to the mosque this week, not that I’ve been in awhile but was hesitant. My supportive partner was worried too as coming out in a small town like this makes me easily identifiable, and quite frankly stalkable as I had found in the past. That or I would be given mean glares for not wearing a head scarf, and quite frankly not fitting in.

When I say salaam to sisters with the headscarf, sometimes three times, they completely ignore me. Act as if I didn’t say it. That hurts.

Or when my own sisters of the faith assume I’m the worst of mankind and completely disown me. That hurts even more.

If 85% of us don’t wear the headscarf, why are we made to feel like we are less than somehow? As a convert, the incredible isolation, ridicule, public scrutiny, humiliation and constant anxiety over the next public news made life extremely challenging.

Ironically of course I had a better job with my head scarf than without. But I digress.

Is it so wrong to wanna blend in. Is it so bad that we don’t want to feel like a constant outcast in both societies.

I think not.

And looking down on me for being with a wonderful man who subscribes to God but with a different upbringing, masha’Allah… one has to wonder what’s more important. The man who increases your faith, or the one who shrunk it. Just sayin’.

And for those naysayers, we do have Surah al Baqarah play all the time in the house to protect us. We pray together when times get rough, and we are so thankful for God. He has taught me so much about faith, one who didn’t complain even when he was living in his car with nothing to eat for days.

I don’t think we can judge. Only God does that.

Ease. Success. Ameen.

P.S. One could argue converts lose their faith after awhile… I would argue we find our middle, what’s right for us, which no one can tell you but your heart and close conversations with God. Ameen. And forgive me if I have offended anyone with my heart.

Changing Friendships

I remember having a best friend as a kid whom I thought would never end.

Growing up, although I’m young at heart, I’m realizing that people around me change. Decades go by, I didn’t notice little things here and there that indicated something was expiring.

It’s hard. We fight it. Surely, all that energy and love we pour into something should mean something. How is it possible someone new comes along and fills that slow void that’s opening.

They say as you get older, its harder to make friends. I would argue that as we grow, sometimes we don’t fit what once was.

May you butterfly into the wings you are meant to have.