Work travails.
So, yesterday night I showed up at work to be trained to work my new post. The woman who normally works it, and was supposed to train me, never showed up. The supervisor came down and went over things with me, and fortunately the guy who drives patrol on the graveyard shift also works the gate sometimes, so he came and answered a few questions and then I was on my own. Unfortunately I hadn't really prepared for it, (crossword puzzle book is the diversion of choice for most of our gate guards, since you're likely to see all of about 8 people over the course of the entire night), so was mostly bored out of my skull. Last night I was better prepared: iPod with portable speakers (one can't have the ear bud in one's ear at work), crossword puzzle book, energy drink, microwave popcorn and a chicken salad sandwich on rosemary-raisin bread.
I also found out that the guy who used to relieve me from my patrol shift is in the hospital. He had a stroke, and no one knows anything about his condition. Then last night I found out that they moved someone else to his shift permanently, so I guess the assumption is that he won't be coming back. This makes me sad, because he's a character: an older guy who wore a gold chain, gold bracelet, and gold pinkie ring, combed his hair in a pompador, kept an extremely well-groomed mustache, and wore his uniform shirts unbuttoned a little more than you're supposed to so you could see his gold chain ... and drove a Lincoln towncar. He called everybody "babe" and was possibly the only person I ever heard actually say, "He don't know shit from shinola." Hopefully we'll hear more about his condition as time goes on.
Also, it appears that no one knows why the woman who was supposed to train me last night never showed, and the supervisor seemed to be implying that she's either been fired or reassigned. A lot of "reorganization" going on out there, and everyone's feeling unsettled. And since the primary graveyard patrol driver and primary graveyard gatekeeper are both M.I.A. - we who are working those shifts are both wondering what's going to happen when our "off days" arrive. I'm betting we'll each be working more than five days in a row. Hey, overtime. Now I just have to take what measures I can to not lose my mind. I think I'm on to a decent sleep schedule right now, going to bed as soon as I get home from work. That lets me get to sleep when it's still basically dark outside, and that seems to help. I actually got eight hours today, which is the best I've ever done working graves, so I feel pretty good.
Now if my family would just stop calling me and needing favors, I might be okay.
I also found out that the guy who used to relieve me from my patrol shift is in the hospital. He had a stroke, and no one knows anything about his condition. Then last night I found out that they moved someone else to his shift permanently, so I guess the assumption is that he won't be coming back. This makes me sad, because he's a character: an older guy who wore a gold chain, gold bracelet, and gold pinkie ring, combed his hair in a pompador, kept an extremely well-groomed mustache, and wore his uniform shirts unbuttoned a little more than you're supposed to so you could see his gold chain ... and drove a Lincoln towncar. He called everybody "babe" and was possibly the only person I ever heard actually say, "He don't know shit from shinola." Hopefully we'll hear more about his condition as time goes on.
Also, it appears that no one knows why the woman who was supposed to train me last night never showed, and the supervisor seemed to be implying that she's either been fired or reassigned. A lot of "reorganization" going on out there, and everyone's feeling unsettled. And since the primary graveyard patrol driver and primary graveyard gatekeeper are both M.I.A. - we who are working those shifts are both wondering what's going to happen when our "off days" arrive. I'm betting we'll each be working more than five days in a row. Hey, overtime. Now I just have to take what measures I can to not lose my mind. I think I'm on to a decent sleep schedule right now, going to bed as soon as I get home from work. That lets me get to sleep when it's still basically dark outside, and that seems to help. I actually got eight hours today, which is the best I've ever done working graves, so I feel pretty good.
Now if my family would just stop calling me and needing favors, I might be okay.