…and I’m slightly miffed.
I cheated this morning. Took a side road and joined the traffic at a lower angle than usual. I was in time for work, but I have crossed the invisible line between order and chaos. And that is not something that sits well with me.
One has a moral code for a reason. And, as with lying, there are no little lies, they are all lies. And once you start with the small things, the big things become that much easier, hurtling you down the path to perdition. Yes, a bit dramatic I suppose, I don’t suppose I’ll go to hell because I joined traffic at the bottom of the road instead of at the top. but I don’t like acting like the great unwashed. There must be something to separate me from everybody else.
The miffiness comes in here at work. For the last 2 evenings, I’ve busted my gut getting other people’s crap sorted. I’ve repacked and re-stacked and fixed shelves, I’ve divided the paper from the plastic. I’ve cleaned the floor so you can actually walk through the room instead of around the heaps of shit standing around everywhere. I’ve come across a whole bunch of things that nobody even knew was there. They can now see exactly how many cartridges for the colour printer there are. They can now see where the backing boards and filing boxes are. All the glass stuff is standing up high, far away from damage. I’ve bumped my hand blue. I’ve lost my nail polish, and even some nails too.
What did I get? Seeing as this is something I’m doing for a company that has not bothered to extend my contract yet. Something that’s not going to be maintained by the people that initially screwed it up in any case. They are using me to fix their stuff ups, and all I get is a yes fine, but…
I’m sorry sweetness. That store room has never looked this decent. I am well versed in how office stationary works – having been part of just such a store room for a few years. The least you can do is thank me for the three hours it took me, the amount of energy I spent – all in sorting out somebody else’s laziness.
Am I going to try and get a decent stock system going? I doubt that. Not because I can’t, but because if I’m not here to maintain it, what’s the use? Since I know exactly what’s going to happen should I not make sure the room is maintained as is. It will most likely only be a matter of weeks before the room is in exactly the same state, if not worse than it was before.
Offer me a longer contract and I will implement a workable system, and keep it working.
Don’t, and I can’t help you – one hand washes the other, them’s the breaks. You don’t owe me anything, I don’t owe you anything either. You pay me for 8 hours a day, that’s what I’ll put in. You expect more, sure, I can help you. In return for some stability. I’m not asking for a huge salary or even any benefits. All I need is stability. The knowledge that come end of the month I will have earned some money, and that I can come to work for the next month and the month after that and the month after that. In return I will keep your store room clean and tidy. I will implement a decent, workable stock system. I can maintain the levels and am strong enough to stop people from wasting the way they currently do.
Alas, all those things come with a price. If you’re prepared to pay that price, I can deliver the goods. If not, I will have to go somewhere where they will appreciate my skills on the only level that really makes any difference. Or I will probably just sit at home because nobody wants white skills anymore. No matter how good they are.
Oh well. Que sera, sera I suppose.
For the nonce I’m still working. I’m still earning, and I’m still sending CV’s away.
G-d willing, I will find something that will challenge me, and will keep my daylight hours occupied with usefullness for the rest of my working life…
Does It Hurt?
A woman goes to her doctor who verifies that she is pregnant. This is her
first pregnancy. The doctor asks her if she has any questions. She
replies, “Well, I’m a little worried about the pain. How much will
The doctor answered, “Well, that varies from woman to woman and pregnancy
to pregnancy and besides, it’s difficult to describe pain.”
“I know, but can’t you give me some idea?,” she asks.
“Grab your upper lip and pull it out a little…”
“A little more…”
“No. A little more…”
“Yes. Does that hurt?”
“A little bit.”
“Now stretch it over your head!”