Work Related Illness & Injury
Sep. 2nd, 2007 09:26 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
waitingmanWell, if being sick & tired counts as an illness...
So, this last week has seen most of the renovation plans at the warehouse finally swing into action, including all the ideas to make the place warmer in winter...
What season is it now... anyone??
Anyway, I shan't complain, because the cold doesn't bother me overly much, especially compared to the Hades-like temperatures the place got to last summer when I started there ~ I lost about 10 kilos during my first week, just by turning up & standing inside... Mind you, there are no current plans to air-condition the place for summer.
What I really want to complain about is this: One would assume when "renovations" are announced, that a team of qualified tradesmen/'Renovators' would turn up & do what they do, while 'Sales' persons like myself, do what I'm supposed to do. In my current circumstances, someone who thought like that would be called, at best, an 'Optimist'. At worst, you'd be called a...
...'Very Foolish Person'.
Current personal injury count by means of unqualified trade practices: 3 cuts to the right hand + sundry nicks & grazes. Other nicks & grazes to the left hand. One cut to the upper-right cheekbone (2-3cm from eye). One blow to the head from falling woodwork & some bruises to the right forearm of unknown origin, although I think I know how I got 'em...
Exciting moments: One leap to safety from the top of a 1.8m ladder to avoid the unexpected collapse of a wood-panelled wall.
Overtime logged over 4 days: 8 hours. Expectation of remuneration for same: Nil.
Sales activity during the 4 days leading up to Fathers Day in a BBQ & Outdoor Furniture store: I'm sure you can imagine... Sales staff on hand to handle same: 2 (when not engaged in the above described activities or out on delivery duties across this not-so-small city).
Revenge & Amusement: Today, on my way home from rehearsal with the Pop Group, I received a call from the centre which monitors the alarms at work. Seems the 'Managing Director/Owner/Company Namesake' forgot to turn on the alarm when he left the joint, resulting in my being notified at 6.40pm ~ 20 mins before I'm due at a family 'Fathers Day' dinner. They'd tried to ring the Hobbit ~ my name for my manager... but he'd not responded, so I'm it.
Anyway, I collected the 3 immediate family members & they had the pleasure of accompanying me to the store & waiting in the car as I went in to check the place over. First thing I noticed, as the motion sensor lights in the warehouse came on, was that the rear warehouse lights had been left on. Second thing was that we'd had a visitor... one who was of the strong opinion that "blake t rocks". So much so that (s)he had spray-painted it on the floor & some of the timber being used for the renovations, as well as painting a line down the row of flat-packed boxed tables against the warehouse wall. Using our own spray paint, which we keep for touching up nicks & scratches in tables etc... I know this because I found the empty tin discarded at the back of the place. There was no damage to any exposed stuff, nor to the delivery ute parked near the driveway entrance.
My main concern then, was that once you get past the main roller door, you can get into the rest of the store, because none of the interior doors are locked. So, if our blake t fan was still here, (s)he could be anywhere over 3 floors of store/warehouse, doing whatever comes naturally to your average northern suburban vandal/thief.
To cut a long story (slightly) shorter, having checked all the places I'd try & hide, the place was deserted. So, I rang the Hobbit & left a message for him to call me ASAP ~ which he did about 5 minutes into the delayed family dinner. After establishing that there was nothing but a bit of petty vandalism (& his father's own slackness in not activating the alarm) to worry about, he asked what the words were spray-painted in the warehouse. When I told him about the blake t fan club, he said "Blake's my bloody nephew! He was there today with Dad & his bloody mother!!"
I was so very restrained in my response. No mention of how stupid his nephew must be to tag family property. No mention of how... stupid his nephew must be to tag it with his own name. No mention of how you can't expect much better from the defective gene pool that had already produced both him & his father, so it's not really the kid's fault. Just a quiet, rueful chuckle at his implied threat of how much more Blake would enjoy cleaning up his own mess, than the punishment that would come along with it.
After that, the family dinner was, of course, an anti-climax. Even Father was in reasonably good spirits, so there were no public parental slanging matches for my sister & I to endure.
As a post-script of purest optimism, I have poured carefully selected words of frustration & vitriol into, what I hope to be, a helpful ear, so things may improve... Either that, or I'll finally land a job which will be the ticket back to my home tax bracket & a real disposable income. I miss having one of those...
So, this last week has seen most of the renovation plans at the warehouse finally swing into action, including all the ideas to make the place warmer in winter...
What season is it now... anyone??
Anyway, I shan't complain, because the cold doesn't bother me overly much, especially compared to the Hades-like temperatures the place got to last summer when I started there ~ I lost about 10 kilos during my first week, just by turning up & standing inside... Mind you, there are no current plans to air-condition the place for summer.
What I really want to complain about is this: One would assume when "renovations" are announced, that a team of qualified tradesmen/'Renovators' would turn up & do what they do, while 'Sales' persons like myself, do what I'm supposed to do. In my current circumstances, someone who thought like that would be called, at best, an 'Optimist'. At worst, you'd be called a...
...'Very Foolish Person'.
Current personal injury count by means of unqualified trade practices: 3 cuts to the right hand + sundry nicks & grazes. Other nicks & grazes to the left hand. One cut to the upper-right cheekbone (2-3cm from eye). One blow to the head from falling woodwork & some bruises to the right forearm of unknown origin, although I think I know how I got 'em...
Exciting moments: One leap to safety from the top of a 1.8m ladder to avoid the unexpected collapse of a wood-panelled wall.
Overtime logged over 4 days: 8 hours. Expectation of remuneration for same: Nil.
Sales activity during the 4 days leading up to Fathers Day in a BBQ & Outdoor Furniture store: I'm sure you can imagine... Sales staff on hand to handle same: 2 (when not engaged in the above described activities or out on delivery duties across this not-so-small city).
Revenge & Amusement: Today, on my way home from rehearsal with the Pop Group, I received a call from the centre which monitors the alarms at work. Seems the 'Managing Director/Owner/Company Namesake' forgot to turn on the alarm when he left the joint, resulting in my being notified at 6.40pm ~ 20 mins before I'm due at a family 'Fathers Day' dinner. They'd tried to ring the Hobbit ~ my name for my manager... but he'd not responded, so I'm it.
Anyway, I collected the 3 immediate family members & they had the pleasure of accompanying me to the store & waiting in the car as I went in to check the place over. First thing I noticed, as the motion sensor lights in the warehouse came on, was that the rear warehouse lights had been left on. Second thing was that we'd had a visitor... one who was of the strong opinion that "blake t rocks". So much so that (s)he had spray-painted it on the floor & some of the timber being used for the renovations, as well as painting a line down the row of flat-packed boxed tables against the warehouse wall. Using our own spray paint, which we keep for touching up nicks & scratches in tables etc... I know this because I found the empty tin discarded at the back of the place. There was no damage to any exposed stuff, nor to the delivery ute parked near the driveway entrance.
My main concern then, was that once you get past the main roller door, you can get into the rest of the store, because none of the interior doors are locked. So, if our blake t fan was still here, (s)he could be anywhere over 3 floors of store/warehouse, doing whatever comes naturally to your average northern suburban vandal/thief.
To cut a long story (slightly) shorter, having checked all the places I'd try & hide, the place was deserted. So, I rang the Hobbit & left a message for him to call me ASAP ~ which he did about 5 minutes into the delayed family dinner. After establishing that there was nothing but a bit of petty vandalism (& his father's own slackness in not activating the alarm) to worry about, he asked what the words were spray-painted in the warehouse. When I told him about the blake t fan club, he said "Blake's my bloody nephew! He was there today with Dad & his bloody mother!!"
I was so very restrained in my response. No mention of how stupid his nephew must be to tag family property. No mention of how... stupid his nephew must be to tag it with his own name. No mention of how you can't expect much better from the defective gene pool that had already produced both him & his father, so it's not really the kid's fault. Just a quiet, rueful chuckle at his implied threat of how much more Blake would enjoy cleaning up his own mess, than the punishment that would come along with it.
After that, the family dinner was, of course, an anti-climax. Even Father was in reasonably good spirits, so there were no public parental slanging matches for my sister & I to endure.
As a post-script of purest optimism, I have poured carefully selected words of frustration & vitriol into, what I hope to be, a helpful ear, so things may improve... Either that, or I'll finally land a job which will be the ticket back to my home tax bracket & a real disposable income. I miss having one of those...
