"The Boss' Daughter"

So uh yeah, I'm THAT girl. I try not to be THAT girl but I am.

I work for my parents, I do it because I don't officially have my high school diploma. I was home schooled and while I could pass the GED test with flying colors the thought of spending an entire day at the local high school testing with a bunch of drop outs with blue hair frightens me.

The thing about being THAT girl is that people think you are better off than you really are. For some reason people seem to think that this job comes with more perks than it really does. I'll tell you right now that being the boss' daughter means no overtime pay, ever. It also means that since everyone thinks I have special perks that I don't really have my parents (yes, I work for both of them) think that they must prove that there are no special perks to being the boss's daughter. You think I can waltz in late with out anyone noticing? Um, no, I get the same reports to personnel that the rest of you do and I have to hear about it after hours. You think I get paid more? Most often I get paid LESS because they can and they know I'm not going anywhere.

Another wonderful "perk" that this job comes with is other people trying to get rid of you. For some reason there are certain people who think that in order to move up in the company they must get rid of me, like I have a magic wand that I wave when I want something done. So unless they get rid of me and my wand they could be fired at any moment and they just are not safe until I am gone. I have been under attacks that would make anyone cry, I have had things made up about me and the demise of the ENTIRE COMPANY pinned on me. And what's more is MY MOM BELIEVED IT!!! Yep, not only was I going to be fired by my own mother but I was going to be fired by my own mother while I was on maternity leave. Fortunately I am smarter than people give me credit for and I have waved goodbye to many "overtakers".

Sure it does come with some valid perks. I am able to speak my mind to the "boss" when ever I like. I am a daddy's girl and my dad does run the company. I could, if I really wanted to, milk the system.

The thing is that I don't. I don't want to be THAT girl, I show up on time, I do my cleaning station, and I work as hard, if not harder than anyone else here. Because when all is said and done, I have been here longer than anyone else. I have most of my life and livingness invested in this company. I was answering the reception phone and making info packs for .50 cents a piece at NINE YEARS OLD for fuck sake.

When my mother figures out the obnoxious woman who thinks she should be the one running the company needs to go, I will still be here. When there is painting to do on the weekends and when the alarm goes off at midnight and someone has to be at the office to meet the cops, I will be here. When my parents decide it's time to pass the company on, I will be here.

Is it worth it? Probably not. I have had to fire friends, work weekends for free and have been accused of horrible things many, many times. There is a secret to all of this, there is a reason for my "perks" and a reason I stay. I AM DAMN GOOD AT WHAT I DO. Yup, that's the secret. That's how I bought a house and a car at 20 years old. I am in sales (the most difficult field to be in, if you ask me) and because of that I have the ability to make bank. Not because I am the Boss' daughter, nope, that gets me little more than a day of here or there that the average employee might not get. My perks come from the fact that I am damn good at getting peoples money, I can say, "The total is going to be $30,455. What credit card would you like to put that on?" with out batting an eye. I don't have to talk people in to buying, I know the questions to ask to get them to talk themselves in to buying. With out this I would make enough to afford a one-bedroom apartment.

The point of this is not sympathy. No, I don't need or want sympathy. I am proud of what I have because I have earned it. The point of this is next time to see someone who appears to have everything handed to them on a silver platter, look a little closer, maybe they actually worked for everything they have.

Oh and just because I'm 23, work for my parents and have an obsession for shoes and shopping doesn't mean I am stupid. Remember that the next time you try and get rid of me. I will be here far longer than you so you are much better off pretending to be my friend than wasting effort trying to undermine me.