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I finally got my performance evaluation last Friday. My boss owes me about one year's worth of evaluation-- the only time I ever got one was before I got regularized, even though we have semi-annual performance appraisal policy.
My evaluation form had been sitting in his office for two weeks. Everyday as I organized his table, I'd flinch at the thought of him poring over it, something he rarely does over any document except contracts and financial reports. He loathes answering forms of any sort, so whenever he has to, I make sure that all he has to do is sign the paper and get it out of his face. He called me in his office last Friday, the deadline for the employee appraisal forms. Strangely, I felt calm--haughty even-- as if nothing he could say can surprise me at this point. In a way, it's true.
In a nutshell, he gave me an evaluation of 98%. Of course, that means I fell short by 2%.
"You're doing well," he'd begun. "But there's something lacking. I can't pinpoint what it is."
Unfortunately, that's the whole point of the evaluation. The only thing he asked me to work on is to be better at Korean. "As you know, you have limitations in working for me because you're not Korean. I have to take care of all my meetings, and you don't know my business." Then he made me introduce myself in Korean using what I learned in my beginner's course, most of which I have conveniently forgotten. Carefully, I strung together two sentences: "My name is Roselle. I am a Filipino."
He shook his head, laughing to himself. "You need to learn more," he said looking at my evaluation form. "But your pronounciation is not bad." It felt like a surprise oral exam. He expects me to learn Korean by next year. At that point I was beginning to wonder if I really exhibited that much loyalty that he's so secure I wouldn't peel away anytime this year. This is what it feels like to be taken forgranted, I realized. No one has treated me like this before. As if reading my mind, he said that I'm about to have my salary increased, as I'm management level already. The exact figures are yet to be punched, though, as we're finishing up the first quarter financial statement.
At the end of our meeting, he invited me to go scuba diving with him on Friday, with my beloved Mr. P. I bet Mr. P misses me, and made some way to be with me again. What is with me and old men?
I should be happy. In a downturn economy, being promised an increase is beyond one's expectation. But I'm not, not really. Everything I wanted to say to his face just disappeared; I sat there, rapt and eager, as on my first day on the job. I had nodded, took down notes, asked reasonably intelligent questions, even smiled at a joke or two. But inside, I was disappointed. I can't bear the thought of having to do what I do for another year, no matter how much I get paid. I'm underappreciated, but the sad part is I'm the only one to blame as I undervalue myself. I did everything wrong, I realize that now-- I went after the prestige, privileges, the money. But in the end, time is more valuable. When I'm old, high up the ladder with considerable riches in my bank account (how exactly, from being an Executive Assistant, I'm not sure), I know I'll have many regrets. So it stops here.
What will I do after I resign? Who would want me? These questions keep me from quitting. But, really, can my resume be that worthless?
