Please Slide
I'm typing this on Thursday, a public holiday to honour the passing of Queen Elizabeth II, and I am going to use the day to clean up my home, watch Andor (a Star Wars TV show) and possibly try again to make blueberry muffins.
As a diabetic, I shouldn't really touch them, but my focus is more to do with trying new things and coming out of my comfort zone again.
In my last post I talked about working at the Royal Adelaide Show, and how physically and mentally draining it was.
I was verbally abused by a few people too, just for doing my job. It's unwise to upset a guy carrying a razor sharp, shit-covered shovel, but I digress...
Tuesday was a particularly wet day, and because I'd been asked to stay on cleaning up a few weeks after the Royal Adelaide Show, I had to return my uniform to the recruitment agency's head office.
Dodging periods of heavy rain, in a vain attempt not to become saturated, or worse yet, slip over on the wet flat surfaces, I entered their small, inadequately sheltered office at furthest end of an uncovered carpark.
Upon entering, I saw and heard to my left a guy seemingly talking to himself, but he was on speakerphone in front of the alarm system talking to someone about how to proceed in fixing whatever issue it was having.
I approached the the counter and let one of the 3 women in the office know I was there to return the uniform. They accepted it and when I went to ask if there were was more work available, they said that they'd only hired me for the Show and nothing else.
Throughout the show, and afterwards, they'd offered all sorts of shifts to other casual workers who promptly rejected them or otherwise proved themselves to be unreliable whereas I need the work.
One employee told me she worked 22 days straight, and was even offered a fulltime office position, which they declined.
The answer, just like the last time I worked for them, was a constant "No!" regardless of what I asked.
It's the very definition of the Dunning-Kreuger effect, to reject people who genuinely need to work.
I walked away deflated, dodging periodic downpours of rain on my way to the nearest pub, The Astor.
While there, I ordered a drink and made use of their complimentary mobile phone recharge station.
Fairly soon, I needed to use the toilet facilities but the male cubical was sealed shut, so I visited the disabled toilets instead.
Wearing hearing aids classifies me as being disabled, not exactly a good excuse for using the disabled toilets, but it works.
On the back of the sliding door was a hook and a sign that said "Please Slide" with an arrow pointing in the suggested direction.
Please slide sign with arrow
For some reason, I saw multiple meanings in the words.
My sneakers had lost their traction, which meant that I was slipping and sliding on flat wet surfaces all day, so I found this an amusing form of permission to do just that.
Deeper still, the words calmed me down somewhat and reminded me that I needed to let go of that particular recruitment company and be somewhat fluid in my approach to employment.
I can slide from company to company.
But also, I could let the experience "slide off a duck's back" so to speak, and not get bogged down in the bureaucracy of office politics. They are stuck there while I am free to slide rapidly in the direction of my choosing.
Sliding requires direction, momentum and a lack of friction and that is what I am going to do.
I encourage you to do the same. There's a much better life abailable.
Please slide...
Thank you for reading.
Slidin' Shaidon.
Slidin' Shaidon's Seal Of Approval