Screw you too, job!

I have officially been in my job for a year. Yesterday was the day anniversary, but today was the actual date anniversary. Now, no matter how you look at it, I have been sitting at that desk in that job for a full year. Three hundred sixty-five days.

At my first job out of college, they surprised me with goodies on my one-year anniversary (there were actually two of us who started on the same date, so we got double the goodies!). 

At my second job (the one I had to leave when we moved to VA), my one-year anniversary was even better. I arrived to work to find a large gift back on my desk, filled with the company's standard, cutesy one-year gift: a retro silver lunch pail (with thermos, I believe) and silver CD case with the company logo. My boss took me out to lunch, and the other people on my team came along. We'd have drinks at lunch, and there'd probably be an afternoon beer at my desk to continue the celebration. 

Obviously not all workplaces are as laid-back (or awesome) as that job, so I know not to expect anything like that again. 

However, I do expect some sort of mention. I mean, maybe it's silly, but I think it's a big deal to reach one year at work. It should definitely be celebrated with a cake, or lunch, or even a half "Congrats!", half "Thanks for your hard work" email. (For the record, I'm all for any excuse to eat cake -- especially at work.)

But here, at this job I've been uncertain about all along ... at this job where I make about half of what I made in Dallas ... where I can't wear jeans daily to work, or bring my dog, or drink a beer at my desk ...

This job is the one that didn't acknowledge the one-year milestone.

Just a mention was all I wanted, really. 

Instead, it felt like a slap in the face.