What a fuckin bullshit day at work.
I'm fuming at management right now, who served me up all day a nightmare of incompetence of which I was the meat in the sandwich. They couldn't organise a fuck in a brothel. And even if they did manage, by some miracle of the universe, to actually organise said fuck in said brothel, it would no doubt be such a pathetic a woeful effort that those involved in said fuck would not be able to fuck themselves out of a bloody wet paper bag. Said fuck would fall way short of expectations for all. The guy would want his money back.
Seriously, if I fucked up as bad as some moronic idiot in the office today affecting so many production staff, I'd get a warning letter and be on death row in the line of fire to be fired. I'm gonna ask about it tomorrow and seriously want some kind of redress to today's bullshit.
What happened was this; we have a client that we do regular shit for every month. That involves my dept being informed of the base stock amount needed to have in stores so that when laser needs it the stock will be there. OK, so some rep I think sent all the remaining stock we had in stores to the client (200,000 fuckin thousand remaining stock!) as they wanted it for some reason, and told no one else in the whole company that that is what happened.
So the whole site had on it's computer system through the whole fuckin place, that there is still 200,000 still in stock. Guess what? Laser started running it today, and the store-men went to get some of the many stock that the system said were there. Guess what? They found an empty shelf.
Suddenly one of the store-men started wheeling 2 pallets out of print (all that was available in print so far) into the official pre-cut area for the guillotine. He said "This , there is not stock". ... I look at it and say something like "OK I'll do it next*.
The Monday guy (replacement for the fuckwit guy - *read previous posts*) Did a very good effort yesterday. More than what I thought, and better than the other bloke (who got the shits with all of us, about me taking every second Tuesday) and did fuck all. This new bloke did 6 pallets, I added up what the other permanent bloke was telling me he cut. Oh what a relief! The guy is normal without any psychological issues! And he's done what I'd do in a day. Very fuckin good.
Today I changed the knife first off, from the blunt to the sharp. I'm doing it now twice a week as the paper, although much better quality than previous suppliers, is very hard on the knife. I used to change it once a week or so, now it's twice a week. And the casual bloke isn't insured from the agency to change the knife (dunno what the other fuckwit was thinking, who didn't know how much about this machine, to try to do it without knowing what you're doing). So it's just me now, and I have to do it at the beginning of my working week -Tuesday or Wednesday-, and the last day at the end; -Friday.
Today it took the usual half an hour (opposed to the fuckwit who took around 2 hours, not listening, and eventually being help by the other permanent). I finished the job the yesterday good new bloke was doing; just one more pallet. It was only 2 up though instead of 4, so it was double handling and took more time. Probably about a half hour extra. I finished just before 9:30.
By that time there had been 4 (I think 4 at that stage. Getting a bit of a blur now darlings). That job was about a week late all-ready, but because it was only 1 and a half pallets and a small one it had just kept getting put aside. So that was done, and I was wheeling the urgent job (a pallet) on the lifter next to the guillotine, as it was next up. By this time a store-man was the 5th person who saw me doing so and came over having a stress about it. I said something like "Yes I'm doing it now".
The job had been printed on the press, double sided for a certain client that their base stock was quite enjoyable to look at all day: a nice blue aqua colour. Nice. It was then on the other press to perforate,
which it was doing very fast, 4 sheets up. No printing just doing the
perf as it was hugely faster than the old machine in the corner. Then it
was to me to cut. It bleed off the sides when I cut it so even the whole side was that relaxing blue colour. 1,000 sheets at a time. I cut over 300,000 today.
It's like stacking bricks almost. Once you know all about paper and how to handle it, it's almost natural to pick up 1,000 A4 sheets and stack them on the pallet next to me, in seconds. Over and over. Today 5 pallets of it. Plus the one pallet of the 2 up job. Total about 4-5 tonnes of lifting. Plus I spent half an hour changing the knife. Done pretty well I reckon. Not bad for a nearly 50 year old, who'se not taking HIV meds.
I feel better than I have in decades. It's completely different than 6 months ago. I've never been so authentic to how I feel and who I am. In a society in the eastern suburbs of Sydney where that's accepted. I am a bit loud and annoying at times I know. But oh well that's just me eh. I'm happy to be me.
Life has it's scars. Terrible scars. But they're my scars. In a way I'm proud of them. The pain. The hurt. The near suicide. Pain beyond imagination, but which thrust itself on you. Pain beyond bearing. ... but it's my pain. It's my life. I'm who I am today because of it. I wanted out at the time. I wanted the pain to end.
Eventually it did. I came to slowly realise that the sun would eventually set on even my pain. Eventually it did.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment