Page 59 of Time Loops & Meet Cutes
Have we been cursed for a set number of days? It’s clearly not thirty, but what if we’re destined to live like this for 365 days, no matter what? And why us?
I’ve made no real progress, so I figure we’ve got to do the other thing that I mentioned to Avery. If it’snota set number of days, and it’s related to a change we need to make in our lives, we can’t avoid this any longer.
One night—she spends every night at my apartment now—we’re halfway through a pepperoni pizza when I say, “Tomorrow, we’re going back to work.”
22Noelle
June 20, Version 120-ish
The first day back at the office, I don’t plan to do anything unusual. I’m just trying to get the lay of the land, so to speak. Sure, I’ve lived this day at work more than once, but it’s been a while.
“Good morning,” I say to Eloise, one of the drafters.
“Good morning,” she says, as though it’s just another day. As though I haven’t been gone for months.
I head to my cubicle, where I email Tyler—who’s not in yet—a reminder about the proposal, as I remember doing before.
It takes a couple of hours to get into the swing of things, but by eleven, I feel like I’ve adjusted. In all honesty, it’s kind of nice to be back, despite the sterile décor and rather harsh overhead lighting.
At lunch, I eat with Fernando and ask about his family. As he’s telling me about his summer plans, I get an idea.
If anything is going to change about my job, I need to gather some information.
The next day at lunch, I open my mouth to ask Fernando about his salary, then snap it shut. I don’t think this is something he’llwant to discuss while we’re at the office, even if we’re in the break room and nobody else is present. I’ll wait until later.
“Last one here again?” Fernando says as he heads to the door at six.
“Actually, I was about to pack up,” I say. “Could you wait a minute? We’ll head out together.”
“Sure.” He smiles, but he looks a little puzzled—this is out of character for me.
When we’re on the street, walking toward the subway station, my heart rate speeds up. It’s time for my question.
“What’s your, uh, salary?” I ask.
He stops on the sidewalk and gives me a look.
“As a woman in engineering, I’m concerned I’m being underpaid. We graduated in the same year, with the same degree. We have the same job title.” And I think we’re equally competent.
“Okay,” he says. “Just don’t tell anyone that I told you.”
My eyes widen at the number. I think of all the extra money I could be saving with that salary.
Since he told me his, I tell him mine, though I suspect he had some idea based on my reaction.
“They should definitely be paying you more,” he says.
“They should,” I agree.
That night, I text Avery, who has returned to her job in comms, as she calls it. She has a master’s degree in the field and studied psychology in undergrad.
Communicating is, in fact, something I need to research. Specifically, I need to figure out how to ask for a raise. I’ve never done that before, but maybe being assertive at my job will get me out of this time loop. Even if it doesn’t, knowing my boss’s response will be useful information to have, if I escape the loop at a later date.
The articles I read tell me to be confident, to focus on my accomplishments. I shouldn’t mention how long it’s been since I had a raise—two years, in my case—or that I know a coworker makes more than me. (I promised Fernando I wouldn’t mention it anyway, although he won’t remember our conversation.) I do look up job listings for comparable positions at other companies, so I have some numbers at my disposal. My current salary isn’t below the range I find online, but it’s below average. Some listings don’t mention a salary range at all, which is bullshit. Not just because it’s completely unhelpful for my research purposes, but this is information you should have before applying for a job, isn’t it?
One article recommends not asking for a raise of more than 5 percent, but screw that. (Also, who’s writing these articles? Can I trust their expertise?)
The more time I think about it, the angrier I get. I have more work dumped on my plate than Fernando does, yet I make less. I’ve kept my head down and done it all without complaint, believing I’d be rewarded eventually. Butwhydid I think that? It seems so naïve.
