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Sep. 28th, 2009 03:34 pm![[personal profile]](http://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hector_rashbaumwork today got so bad I actually cried. AWESOME
initially I was just having one of those days - slept like shit, couldn't get moving this morning, didn't have anything I wanted for lunch, etc. We have to wear smocks at the warehouse, and they'd only sent over Large, and of course the best way to start any day is forcing yourself into clothes two sizes too small (bonus awesome, being the only one in the room having that problem).
At least I was doing a job that didn't require me to wear my smock; of course, that wasn't much of a refuge, 'cause there had been full-time people from the plant working in our warehouse over the weekend and they made a giant fuckup of things. So instead of doing my nice laid-back easy fun job that's my favorite, it took me an hour and a half to clean up their disaster.
And on top of that, Tracy (our line leader, sort of a...head temp, idk) showed me how to fill out the label sheets for the rework bags so she could clean up some of the other messes the weekend idiots had made. And I fucked up part of that, which was entirely my fault, I completely failed to think...but because the way I fucked it up was the same way the weekend people had fucked up a bunch of other bags, she just assumed my 3-bag fuckup was a 25-bag fuckup. I'm still not entirely sure she heard (or believed?) me when I told her I'd just screwed up the 3, I had no idea about the other 20-odd.
So I was already in an AWESOME mood at this point, and then when I was helping Tracy and Amy with a different job, one of the lift drivers came over and told us the people stacking cans weren't doing it right. I was one of the people who'd spent 45 minutes on Friday figuring out how to stack them after our boss decided how many cans needed to be put on per layer without bothering to figure out if that was even possible. And after we spent all that time figuring it out, we WROTE IT DOWN for the next people. So Tracy sent me over to show them how to do it...and they gave me shit for trying to show them what to do when apparently someone had told them they were doing it okay. And then one guy (who I HATE, SO MUCH) made fun of me for having trouble getting my smock back on, decided not to wait for me to get my smock back on, stacked half the pallet wrong despite knowing I was there to show him how to do it right, and then goofed off enough to drop a can on the floor (we get shit for that, 'cause cans that hit the floor are no good, have to go to animal-feed rework).
And halfway through that layer boss comes over and says he wants us to stack the pallets the way I suggested before all the shit on Friday, 6 layers of 80 instead of 4 of 96. FFFFFFFFFFFFF.
So by this point I'm so tense and angry I'm fucking vibrating, I go back to my rework job because I do that alone and I CANNOT DEAL WITH PEOPLE right then...and twenty minutes later Tracy pulls me aside, says she wishes she didn't have to bring this up but some people apparently have a problem with how sarcastic I am and have complained about it to boss, so I need to tone it down because if enough people bring it up, I could get fired.
That was the point at which, having run out of rework, I went to stack boxes because the stacks are high and I could hide behind them so when I failed at trying not to cry it was okay.
OH OH, and. I didn't bring lunch because we didn't have anything I liked, so I was just gonna stop at the gas station and get something? I drove all the way up there on lunch break...only to find I'd left my wallet at home.
initially I was just having one of those days - slept like shit, couldn't get moving this morning, didn't have anything I wanted for lunch, etc. We have to wear smocks at the warehouse, and they'd only sent over Large, and of course the best way to start any day is forcing yourself into clothes two sizes too small (bonus awesome, being the only one in the room having that problem).
At least I was doing a job that didn't require me to wear my smock; of course, that wasn't much of a refuge, 'cause there had been full-time people from the plant working in our warehouse over the weekend and they made a giant fuckup of things. So instead of doing my nice laid-back easy fun job that's my favorite, it took me an hour and a half to clean up their disaster.
And on top of that, Tracy (our line leader, sort of a...head temp, idk) showed me how to fill out the label sheets for the rework bags so she could clean up some of the other messes the weekend idiots had made. And I fucked up part of that, which was entirely my fault, I completely failed to think...but because the way I fucked it up was the same way the weekend people had fucked up a bunch of other bags, she just assumed my 3-bag fuckup was a 25-bag fuckup. I'm still not entirely sure she heard (or believed?) me when I told her I'd just screwed up the 3, I had no idea about the other 20-odd.
So I was already in an AWESOME mood at this point, and then when I was helping Tracy and Amy with a different job, one of the lift drivers came over and told us the people stacking cans weren't doing it right. I was one of the people who'd spent 45 minutes on Friday figuring out how to stack them after our boss decided how many cans needed to be put on per layer without bothering to figure out if that was even possible. And after we spent all that time figuring it out, we WROTE IT DOWN for the next people. So Tracy sent me over to show them how to do it...and they gave me shit for trying to show them what to do when apparently someone had told them they were doing it okay. And then one guy (who I HATE, SO MUCH) made fun of me for having trouble getting my smock back on, decided not to wait for me to get my smock back on, stacked half the pallet wrong despite knowing I was there to show him how to do it right, and then goofed off enough to drop a can on the floor (we get shit for that, 'cause cans that hit the floor are no good, have to go to animal-feed rework).
And halfway through that layer boss comes over and says he wants us to stack the pallets the way I suggested before all the shit on Friday, 6 layers of 80 instead of 4 of 96. FFFFFFFFFFFFF.
So by this point I'm so tense and angry I'm fucking vibrating, I go back to my rework job because I do that alone and I CANNOT DEAL WITH PEOPLE right then...and twenty minutes later Tracy pulls me aside, says she wishes she didn't have to bring this up but some people apparently have a problem with how sarcastic I am and have complained about it to boss, so I need to tone it down because if enough people bring it up, I could get fired.
That was the point at which, having run out of rework, I went to stack boxes because the stacks are high and I could hide behind them so when I failed at trying not to cry it was okay.
OH OH, and. I didn't bring lunch because we didn't have anything I liked, so I was just gonna stop at the gas station and get something? I drove all the way up there on lunch break...only to find I'd left my wallet at home.
