Rachel S. Heslin
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I've mentioned previously that 2002 was Interesting Times. One of the many things which made the year difficult actually happened at the end of 2001. Shawn had been working for a company based in Big Bear, which sounded great when we were buying the house, but their clientele were spread out from San Diego to Fresno and beyond. Shawn was working 14 hour days, multiple days away from home, straight time (no overtime, vacation accrual or even paid sick leave.) But all the hard work was rewarded by a poisonous, paranoid work environment.


The final straw was when they started bouncing his paychecks because the boss bought a new pickup truck with the money. Shawn gave notice and wrote a letter expressing exactly why he was leaving. I've worked in HR -- I know that it's illegal to not pay overtime wages. But he didn't want to call the Department of Labor on them, even though I knew we had a legitimate claim. He wouldn't even file for unemployment because he felt like he had chosen to quit. My POV? They were bouncing his paychecks! What was he supposed to do? Work for free? But that's my husband for you.

Fast forward to today's mail. There was an envelope from the IRS addressed to Sean Heslin. Name misspelling notwithstanding, the enclosed letter (on Dept of Labor letterhead) stated that his former employer owed him back wages, and if he confirmed his ss# and mailing address, they would send us money.

I'd say I'm trying not to feel smug, but I'm rather enjoying this.



I love my husband's honor, but that love is but a pale, moon-cast shadow to the love I bear the man himself.
-- Mary MacGregor, (Jessica Lange) "Rob Roy"

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