Report from the Field, Wednesday
The school I'm currently working has got some style. In most schools, you'll see signs scattered around that read, “Excel”, “Exceed”, “Succeed”, etc. They don't have those here. Instead, this school's signs just say, “Simplify”.
I didn't think I'd find any interesting rooms in an elementary school, but I guess I was wrong. Today I spent most of my time re-doing the lights in the art room. While the room it's self wasn't that special, the way the tables were organized was rather amusing.
It would seem that the class is divided into a several small groups, each named after a wild animal. The Lions, cheetahs, tigers, elephants, and... zebras. One of these things is not like the other. To make things worse, the zebra table was in the center of the big cats' tables (the elephant table was off to the side). I have to wonder if there is any logic behind which kids sit at each table... I mean do the bad kids get cycled to the prey table? Or perhaps the sickliest ones, or the ones with the weakest spirits are permanently assigned there?
On that note, what of the other tables? Twitchy kids at the cheetah table? Cool kids at the tigers? Lazy boys, and applied girls as the lions? Fat kids at the elephants? One can only hope. If the teacher is not fully utilizing the potential of their table organization system, I will be quite disappointed. One things for sure, though: If I ever end up teaching little kids, I will definitely use an organization system like this. The amount of amusement that could be had a youngins' expense is just too much to pass up.
On a more work-related note, I seem to be getting a little quicker at this retrofitting (or “conversion”, as it's apparently called) stuff. I was able to complete 19 fixtures tonight. I may have only beaten last night's number by one, but I also spent more time doing other tasks. I can certainly see me getting to be pretty good at this crap.
Report from the Field, Thursday
What a joke. There was some admin confusion regarding our storage facility. One way or another, it delayed my crew getting to the school by 3 hours. When we finally got there and opened up the truck, our TL (not the same TL from Texas) realized that there was too much waste material in the back to really access our good materials. Because of this, we had to drive to our dump site and offload all of the crap, costing us another 2 hours.
When we finally were able to unload at the school, some of the project developers decided to show up for an inspection. Between the walkthrough and the safety meeting that followed, my crew and I found ourselves out yet another 1.5 hours.
You'd think that would be enough, but fate apparently would disagree. Shortly after the project developers left, my TL got a call from our manager. It would seem that the TL of the other team decided that it would be a good idea to show up to work, drunk. When the developers peeked in on the other school, they noticed that he reeked of alcohol. Being drunk on the job site is a pretty big no-no, so that TL has been relieved of his position. To fill the void, the fastest worker from my team has been transferred to the other crew. Forsooth.
Once all of the confusion ended, there were only 2 hours left in the work day. My TL lookd at the clock, and said, “Fuck it. We're not installing lights today”. Instead, we just spent the rest of the day prepping the conversion kits for Monday. Why not.
Tales of Yore
Yeah, not today. You already got two days worth of crap here.
Off the Clock
Yay hooray, coming home for the weekend. And what a weekend it will be... I woke up at 3pm on Thursday. I'll be heading home shortly after getting back from work (~4am Friday). As in, I'll be driving to Atlanta. I should get in around 7-8am. At 10pm, there is a concert that I want to go to, and at 8am Saturday, there is a 36hr charity event that I'll be participating in.
I'm not entirely sure when the best time for sleep is going to be. I could sleep when I first get home, but that would put me off-schedule for the 36hr event happening 24 hours later. If I wait until after the show to sleep, I will only be getting 6-7 hours of sleep, in a 67hr span. I can probably do it, but it wont be fun. Oh well... I guess it will make for an interesting challenge. This is your favorite, wire-strippin', bracket-assemblin', soon-to-be-delirious ottah fawks wishing you a good morning, good afternoon, and goodnight.
P.S. If your in the mood for some fun (but incredibly spastic) music, check out Negaren's (Renard) new album, Jack.
Friday, November 5, 2010
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
On the Road Again
Report from the Field, Tuesday
Well, I'm back on the case. My contribution to the UCSA project has come to a close, so I have been re-assigned to a project in South Carolina. Instead of working for Umbrella Corporation, I am now working for the US government. Well, the department of education, anyhow.
That's right- I'm working in schools. Elementary schools to be precise. While elementary schools aren't quite as exciting as high-dollar medical research facilities, the more relaxed atmosphere is a nice change of pace. No longer do I have to fear that every move might knock over some vial over, and inadvertently cause the zombie apocalypse. No. Th worst case I can think of here, is that some kid chokes on a screw that I leave behind, or something. Unfortunate, but certainly no global catastrophe.
This project's got a few other perks, too. For one, it's hourly. This puts a hard cap on my earning's for the week, but also allows me to relax a little. It's quite nice to not be in a constant rush. My pace can be more along the lines of this, instead of this (caution: ridiculous)- not slow, but not heart attack hectic. I can actually take my time to do the job right, while staying safe, too. Not that I did anything differently before, it's just that I don't get financially penalized for it now.
The other nice thing is that this project is actually a retrofit instead of a straight relamp. We are converting the majority of the schools' straight 3 lamp fixtures into reflected 2 lamp ones. It's a lot easier to stay focused on the job when you have a more complicated task to do. To convert the fixtures, I have to pull out the old lamps, replace the ballast and tombstone (the little end caps that hold the lamps in place) brackets, add in the reflector, and install a new set of lamps. It's still a pretty straight-forward operation, but at least I get to use a couple tools, and handle a wider variety of materials.
I am also rather pleased that, as it turns out, I am pretty good at this retrofit business. Today was my first day doing it, and yet I still managed to place 3rd on my 4 man crew. Nothing amazing, but not last- and I'm the only new guy. I expect that I'll get noticeably faster as time goes by, and my team leader is already happy my work. Not too shabby. :)
Yet another plus is the close proximity to home. Since the drive from the job site to Atlanta is only 3 or so hours, the office is allowing everyone to go home on the weekends. I am absolutely stoked about this. No matter how obnoxious the job may get in the future, knowing that I only have to deal with it on weekdays will do wonders for it's tolerability. To make the deal even sweeter, the office is holding on to the rooms while we're gone, so we can leave our crap in SC. We also have the option to stay, but I don't really see why anyone would.
In addition to that other stuff, I also got lucky with my crew and lodging assignments. I'll be working with what seems to be a solid bunch of guys- one of which whom was part of my UCSA group. We're staying in a classy extended stay, which appears to be a retrofit residence in. The rooms are spacious, and even go so far as to have a fireplace. There aren't really any store near by (just a 24 hour gas station and a WaHo), but it's still a nice enough place.
So yeah, this job looks like a winner. This may lead to my updates being less... colorful, but that's a trade off I'm willing to make. I'm looking forward to coming home feeling accomplished, instead of cheated, and I'm looking forward to actually being able to come -home-.
Tales of Yore
Some fun stuff happened during my last week/weekend in Texas, but my extreme fatigue and later laziness led to me never reporting them. For the sake of said events getting chronicled, I intend to slip piece them into my current and future posts, bit by bit. Who knows, perhaps my less-than-pristine memory will make stories more interesting that they ought to be...
First off, a quick word on the Great One-Day Strike. In the end, very little ending up coming from this. The Monday after our little stand off, my crew and I all received a phone call from our division manager. He raged at us in an extreme, and most unprofessional, manner- seemingly oblivious to the finer points surrounding our situation. We later received an email apologizing for said phone call, and also informing us that an angry letter was being place on our permanent records.
The letter puts an unfairly negative twist on the events, and is outright incorrect in some points. For what I hear, our permanent records, and contents thereof, don't really mean anything. Despite that, I still intend to talk to that manager about the letter, and see if he can at least adjust it to be true. No matter how important a document may be, if it's a judgment of my character, I prefer it to be accurate.
Other than that, though, nothing really happened. TL never asked us to do that work again, and never brought up that night in later discussions. Nobody was fired. Nobody was even asked to do their jobs differently. A pretty lame ending if you ask me, but I suppose I'm glad that I'm still employed.
Off the Clock
Keeping this journal up-to-date is a surprisingly hard challenge. When I get home from a long day of work, writing is usually not terribly high on my list of things I want to do. If I put it off 'till the morning, I usually end up forgoing the update for the sake of sleeping in. Before long, I have several day's worth of updates to write. The task becomes more daunting, and my drive to work on it is further lessened. When I finally get to my days off, the thought of catching up on all of my missed days seems extremely unappealing.
The ultimate solution is to just not be a lazy-ass in the first place, but procrastination is just in my nature. I'm hoping that working this job, and writing this journal will help to lessen my affliction, as that very same procrastination is part of the reason I was eating it in college. If I ever want to get back into school, I'm going to have to change my way of looking at things.... Anyways, this is your favorite, lazy-ass, back-in-gear ottah fawks wishing you a good morning, good afternoon, and good night.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
A Quick Update
I still have a job. My upper manager is furious with me, but I have not been fired. I've been spending most of my writing time composing emails to him, though, so I haven't had the time to work on this journal
A bunch of fun and craziness happened over the weekend. I'll try to write about it in my next post, which (unfortunately for you guys) will probably be quite long. Until this stuff at work is 100% sorted out, though, you'll all just have to wait.
A bunch of fun and craziness happened over the weekend. I'll try to write about it in my next post, which (unfortunately for you guys) will probably be quite long. Until this stuff at work is 100% sorted out, though, you'll all just have to wait.
Friday, October 15, 2010
The Kinda-Strike Begins
Terribly sorry about my previous train wreck of a post. Anger + booze - sleep = some messed up writing.
Report from the Field, Friday
Things seem to be falling apart, here. Ever since the two new guys showed up on this project, the number and severity of complaints from the facility has risen. The infamous dentist-spooking fixture incident of 2010 was just the most extreme of a myriad of issues. The facility is pissed, our security escorts are pissed, the big-wigs are pissed, and TL is getting scared.
In his fear, TL is starting to fuck up. Last night, he called everyone into a meeting. The first topic he covered, naturally, was the subject of the falling lenses. During that night, a member of the facility cleaning crew told TL that he had noticed a hanging fixture on one of the floor my crew had covered. TL went to investigate, and found that the fixture in question was actually in the office of the Dean of Dental Operations. Yikes.
Because of this disturbing discovery, TL decided to inspect a few of the other rooms. Much to his displeasure, not only did he find several other fixtures to be improperly secured, but he also found that a lot of lights had been skipped, and not replaced.
Now TL knows who was working in these room, as does the rest of the crew. He even outright stated that he knew who was responsible, but was not about to name names. Despite that fact, TL still thought it would be appropriate for the entire crew to go back to all of the rooms they have worked on in the last three days, and double check that they were done fully.
Ok, fair enough. A little QC isn't a bad thing. Even though I pride myself on the quality of my work, and am very thorough about making sure that all of my fixtures are serviced, and fully secured, I understand that recent events have justified a quality control run. If nothing else, it will look good on paper to show that everyone took the time to assure their work is done right.
Then the subject of compensation came up. One of my teammates asked TL how we would be payed for this. I mean, he's asking us to inspect a large number of fixtures, so surely we'll be on hourly pay for this, right? Apparently TL doesn't think that way. According to him, we already have been payed for this work. Making sure that the fixtures are fully closed is included in our one lime per lamp pay.
I can kinda see where TL is coming from. If I did a half-assed job with my relamping, but got payed for the full-assed job, then I still owe the company another ass worth of work. So to speak.
The problem here is that I have already done the full-assed job. I have already taken the time to assure that all of my fixtures are properly secured. If I had not been so careful, I could have put in a good number more lamps. I was careful however, so my numbers are lower, and I have fully earned all of the limes I have been awarded for my efforts. I am 100% confident that every fixture I have worked on will stay closed when tested.
So if your ask me to take my time and re-check my fixtures, to put in yet another half of an ass, then I had better be compensated for that extra work. I have done ~2000 limes worth of work, and have recieve ~2000 limes in compensation. Any extra work needs to have extra compensation associated with it, or else it is nothing but a donation on my behalf. Frankly, I am not too keen on the idea of donating work to my company, and neither are my crew members.
At this point, the whole team was starting to get visibly agitated. TL still had us, but only barely. You could tell that everyone was thinking "This is some bullshit", but at the same time, everyone was still willing to (grudgingly) do the task. Then, out of the blue, TL goes of on another line entirely.Dust. That's right. Once again, we're talkin' about dust.
A quick note, here: In the very first meeting of this project, the lead security escort (The suspected bi-polar werewolf) told stated that we are responsible for wiping the dust off of the inside of the fixtures. Everyone-favorite-project-devoloper John piped up and stated that that task was not in the contract. In so many words, the security escort told John that this was his facility, and that John could just sit down and shut up. John did just that, and after the meeting ran out and bought a bunch of swiffers for my crew. Classy. A real show of spine.
For the first few days of the project, everyone dusted the inside of the lenses. As time wore on, though, people got more and more lax about it. When the crew started getting complaints about the tables/chairs/etc. in our work areas being too dusty, everyone outright stopped. No matter how nice your cleaning rag is, dry-wiping the inside of a lens causes a lot of dust to get thrown into the air. Unless you cover the entire room with dropcloths, and leave the dropcloths there until everything has settled, that dust is going to end up on the tables/chair/whatever where we're working.
The security escorts seemed to realize this, and have not been harassing anyone for not wiping the fixtures. On of the guards often sits and watches me work, so I know that he knows I'm not wiping the fixtures. Despite that, the guard often complements me about how careful and thorough I am, and entrusts me with some of the most sensitive areas.
So when TL starts going off about how all of the fixtures he inspected were not wiped, he very quickly lost the crew. The security escorts (the guys really running this show) seem to be perfectly fine with us not dusting the lenses. There have been zero complaints from the facility about the inside of the lenses being dirty. Unless John was mistaken (or something has changed) dusting the lenses isn't even in our contract. Why on earth are you freaking out about this? Now, of all times, when your crew's confidence in you is hanging by a thread? Bad move, TL
One by one, several of the crew members voiced their concerns. Instead of keeping a level head and reasoning with us, TL instead takes everything personally and gets angry. "Not only will you guys have to go back and wipe all of the lenses from earlier this week (for no pay, mind you) but you will be required to wipe ever lens from this point forward. If you're not willing to wipe the lenses, then you may as well stay at the hotel.
Well, I am not willing to wipe lenses, and I am especially not willing to go back and wipe the lenses of the fixtures that I've already serviced. I am very much against the idea of throwing a bunch of dust in the air, when that dust is going to later settle and cause ire from the facility. I will not be held responsible for contaminating an experiment, all because TL thinks that the inside of these lenses is too dirty.
My crew feels the same way. Between the dust BS, and the idea of spending half the day working without pay, we all were pretty put off. We decided that we will not be going into work on Friday, until this business has been sorted out with the higher-ups. If it turns out that dusting actually is in the contract, then I will gladly comply, and even go back and clean my previously serviced fixtures. If it is not in the contract, then no, I will not be dusting. Until I can find out what that contract says, I can't do any work. Am I acting out of line? I don't think so. I would like to hear your opinions, though, as this thing could end up costing me my job.
I have tried to reach out to some of the people in charge, but have yet to get any real information. By the looks of it, this wont be able to be resolved until Monday rolls around. I hate having this sort of apprehension floating around, but thems the breaks. I'll be sure to keep you guys updated as new information rolls in.
Off the Clock
One thing about this whole disaster that's really eating at me, is that my crew seems to be looking to me for leadership. Normally I wouldn't mind this sort of treatment, but in this case it is causing me a lot of grief. I don't have that much experience in dealing with large corporations. I've had to deal with shitty business men before, but that was in a more personal, privately-owned store setting. All of the rules, regulation, and red tape of the world of big business have left me feeling very unsure of my actions. I think I am doing the right thing, but I can't help but wonder if there is some clause, paragraph, or fine print somewhere that states that I am acting completely out of line. There is a very real chance that I could lose my job, and that has me nervous.
When the rest of my crew turns to me, and ask what I think we should do, that nervousness is instantly compounded to a ridiculous scale. When the idea of even being a slight bother to someone is horrifying to you, the idea of causing someone to lose their job is downright catastrophic. Like I said, I feel like I'm making the right choices, but I'm simply not experienced or knowledgeable enough to lead a strike. Even if I don't actually tell anyone to do anything, the actions I personally take will still have an effect on their choices. I am terrified that I am leading (whether I want to or not) my crew to failure, and it has me so torn up that I feel physically ill. I thought I was just going to be changing lightbulbs...
Report from the Field, Friday
Things seem to be falling apart, here. Ever since the two new guys showed up on this project, the number and severity of complaints from the facility has risen. The infamous dentist-spooking fixture incident of 2010 was just the most extreme of a myriad of issues. The facility is pissed, our security escorts are pissed, the big-wigs are pissed, and TL is getting scared.
In his fear, TL is starting to fuck up. Last night, he called everyone into a meeting. The first topic he covered, naturally, was the subject of the falling lenses. During that night, a member of the facility cleaning crew told TL that he had noticed a hanging fixture on one of the floor my crew had covered. TL went to investigate, and found that the fixture in question was actually in the office of the Dean of Dental Operations. Yikes.
Because of this disturbing discovery, TL decided to inspect a few of the other rooms. Much to his displeasure, not only did he find several other fixtures to be improperly secured, but he also found that a lot of lights had been skipped, and not replaced.
Now TL knows who was working in these room, as does the rest of the crew. He even outright stated that he knew who was responsible, but was not about to name names. Despite that fact, TL still thought it would be appropriate for the entire crew to go back to all of the rooms they have worked on in the last three days, and double check that they were done fully.
Ok, fair enough. A little QC isn't a bad thing. Even though I pride myself on the quality of my work, and am very thorough about making sure that all of my fixtures are serviced, and fully secured, I understand that recent events have justified a quality control run. If nothing else, it will look good on paper to show that everyone took the time to assure their work is done right.
Then the subject of compensation came up. One of my teammates asked TL how we would be payed for this. I mean, he's asking us to inspect a large number of fixtures, so surely we'll be on hourly pay for this, right? Apparently TL doesn't think that way. According to him, we already have been payed for this work. Making sure that the fixtures are fully closed is included in our one lime per lamp pay.
I can kinda see where TL is coming from. If I did a half-assed job with my relamping, but got payed for the full-assed job, then I still owe the company another ass worth of work. So to speak.
The problem here is that I have already done the full-assed job. I have already taken the time to assure that all of my fixtures are properly secured. If I had not been so careful, I could have put in a good number more lamps. I was careful however, so my numbers are lower, and I have fully earned all of the limes I have been awarded for my efforts. I am 100% confident that every fixture I have worked on will stay closed when tested.
So if your ask me to take my time and re-check my fixtures, to put in yet another half of an ass, then I had better be compensated for that extra work. I have done ~2000 limes worth of work, and have recieve ~2000 limes in compensation. Any extra work needs to have extra compensation associated with it, or else it is nothing but a donation on my behalf. Frankly, I am not too keen on the idea of donating work to my company, and neither are my crew members.
At this point, the whole team was starting to get visibly agitated. TL still had us, but only barely. You could tell that everyone was thinking "This is some bullshit", but at the same time, everyone was still willing to (grudgingly) do the task. Then, out of the blue, TL goes of on another line entirely.Dust. That's right. Once again, we're talkin' about dust.
A quick note, here: In the very first meeting of this project, the lead security escort (The suspected bi-polar werewolf) told stated that we are responsible for wiping the dust off of the inside of the fixtures. Everyone-favorite-project-devoloper John piped up and stated that that task was not in the contract. In so many words, the security escort told John that this was his facility, and that John could just sit down and shut up. John did just that, and after the meeting ran out and bought a bunch of swiffers for my crew. Classy. A real show of spine.
For the first few days of the project, everyone dusted the inside of the lenses. As time wore on, though, people got more and more lax about it. When the crew started getting complaints about the tables/chairs/etc. in our work areas being too dusty, everyone outright stopped. No matter how nice your cleaning rag is, dry-wiping the inside of a lens causes a lot of dust to get thrown into the air. Unless you cover the entire room with dropcloths, and leave the dropcloths there until everything has settled, that dust is going to end up on the tables/chair/whatever where we're working.
The security escorts seemed to realize this, and have not been harassing anyone for not wiping the fixtures. On of the guards often sits and watches me work, so I know that he knows I'm not wiping the fixtures. Despite that, the guard often complements me about how careful and thorough I am, and entrusts me with some of the most sensitive areas.
So when TL starts going off about how all of the fixtures he inspected were not wiped, he very quickly lost the crew. The security escorts (the guys really running this show) seem to be perfectly fine with us not dusting the lenses. There have been zero complaints from the facility about the inside of the lenses being dirty. Unless John was mistaken (or something has changed) dusting the lenses isn't even in our contract. Why on earth are you freaking out about this? Now, of all times, when your crew's confidence in you is hanging by a thread? Bad move, TL
One by one, several of the crew members voiced their concerns. Instead of keeping a level head and reasoning with us, TL instead takes everything personally and gets angry. "Not only will you guys have to go back and wipe all of the lenses from earlier this week (for no pay, mind you) but you will be required to wipe ever lens from this point forward. If you're not willing to wipe the lenses, then you may as well stay at the hotel.
Well, I am not willing to wipe lenses, and I am especially not willing to go back and wipe the lenses of the fixtures that I've already serviced. I am very much against the idea of throwing a bunch of dust in the air, when that dust is going to later settle and cause ire from the facility. I will not be held responsible for contaminating an experiment, all because TL thinks that the inside of these lenses is too dirty.
My crew feels the same way. Between the dust BS, and the idea of spending half the day working without pay, we all were pretty put off. We decided that we will not be going into work on Friday, until this business has been sorted out with the higher-ups. If it turns out that dusting actually is in the contract, then I will gladly comply, and even go back and clean my previously serviced fixtures. If it is not in the contract, then no, I will not be dusting. Until I can find out what that contract says, I can't do any work. Am I acting out of line? I don't think so. I would like to hear your opinions, though, as this thing could end up costing me my job.
I have tried to reach out to some of the people in charge, but have yet to get any real information. By the looks of it, this wont be able to be resolved until Monday rolls around. I hate having this sort of apprehension floating around, but thems the breaks. I'll be sure to keep you guys updated as new information rolls in.
Off the Clock
One thing about this whole disaster that's really eating at me, is that my crew seems to be looking to me for leadership. Normally I wouldn't mind this sort of treatment, but in this case it is causing me a lot of grief. I don't have that much experience in dealing with large corporations. I've had to deal with shitty business men before, but that was in a more personal, privately-owned store setting. All of the rules, regulation, and red tape of the world of big business have left me feeling very unsure of my actions. I think I am doing the right thing, but I can't help but wonder if there is some clause, paragraph, or fine print somewhere that states that I am acting completely out of line. There is a very real chance that I could lose my job, and that has me nervous.
When the rest of my crew turns to me, and ask what I think we should do, that nervousness is instantly compounded to a ridiculous scale. When the idea of even being a slight bother to someone is horrifying to you, the idea of causing someone to lose their job is downright catastrophic. Like I said, I feel like I'm making the right choices, but I'm simply not experienced or knowledgeable enough to lead a strike. Even if I don't actually tell anyone to do anything, the actions I personally take will still have an effect on their choices. I am terrified that I am leading (whether I want to or not) my crew to failure, and it has me so torn up that I feel physically ill. I thought I was just going to be changing lightbulbs...
I Think I'm on to Something...
Coworker: "Hey man, you got your knife on you?"
Frenotx: *smirks* "Always" *Draws, opens, flips, and offers the knife, handle first*
Coworker: "Thanks!" *Turns, and uses knife to open a can of beans*
Frenotx :O
Coworker: *Returns the knife, horrible nicked blade and all.* "Thanks again, man"
Frenotx: *Sullenly looks down at the mauled blade, and makes a quiet whimper....*
I apologize in advance for the absurd length of this post. I couldn't type anything last night (My hands were really sore), so Wednesday and Thursday got lumped together. On top of that, a bunch of shit went down on both days.
Report from the Field, Wednesday
One of the the primary, ongoing complaints from UCSA about my crew's work is dust. What are we talking about? Dust. We're not talking about broken equipment. We're not talking about us destroying the experiments that these researchers pour their hearts and souls into. We're talking about dust. Dust. Now, I know we're supposed to be neat. I know we're supposed to put down drop cloths. But man, we're talking about dust! Why the hell is the relamping crew supposed to clean up every single speck of dust, when the custodians are going to be payed to clean it up less than 24 hours from now?!
With that in mind, you can imagine how I felt when the primary security escort called a meeting today. Oh great. More talk about dust. Much to my surprise, however, today's topic was not about barely-perceptible amounts of dirt. It was in fact about something far more dire.
As I said before, my team is currently working in the dental ward. Well, apparently one of the fixtures we worked on was not fully clipped back in place, and burst open in the middle of the day. This wouldn't normally be that big of a deal, but this particular fixture happen to be in one of the dental practice rooms. A practice room that was occupied by a doctor. A doctor who, at the time, had a drill in a patient's mouth. Yeah....
While I personally couldn't help but find this a little amusing, UCSA didn't seem to share my sentiments. Naturally, the facility (and the be-drilled patient) were rather displeased about this. The security escort tells us that they are SO displeased, that if there are any other complaints- any- then the project will be scrapped, and everyone will be sent home. Relamping is srs bsns.
After delivering this glum news, the security escort seemed to brighten up. My coworkers and I joke about this guy being either bipolar, a werewolf, or both, so know that when I say he "brightened up", I really mean it. With a big grin, he tells us that we have finally been approved to work on Fridays. Yippee hooray! Finally, when the project is on the very brink of cancellation, my crew and I can begin to work a full week! I'm still a bit skeptical about the whole thing, but excited none-the-less.
Anyways, with the meeting out of the way, my team got to work. I was assigned to the very promising-looking lecture hall. The sheer number of fixtures was a sight to look at, so I was pretty stoked to get going. Unfortunately, a closer look revealed that all of the fixtures were 2-lampers, and their lenses were extremely unreliable. At one point, one of then lenses actually fell on me as I was climbing up to it, and managed to preform a perfect judo-chop across my right shoulder. By the time I finished that room, I was starting to get rather flustered.
Thankfully, the security escort that was, well, escorting me seemed to notice this. The next area he sent me to was a bonifide gold mine. I was assigned an entire wing of the infamous dental practice rooms. While these rooms do require an increased amount of caution and attention to detail, the outrageous density of lamps more than makes up for it. Each of the little rooms has 3, 4-lamp fixtures in it. :) Seeing all of these lights seemed to thoroughly fire me back up, and put me into a veritable light-changing frenzy. Light's were practically flying out of my hands, and into the ceiling. To give you an idea of this madness, I was able to put in 98 lamps in less than 45 minutes.
Thanks to my end-of-the-night rampage, I was able to put in a total of 569 lamps- more than anyone else on the team. That brings my mvp count to 3. I don't want to get ahead of myself, but I'm starting to thing that my good nights are not entirely a product of good luck. It's crazy, I know, but I think I'm finally starting to figure this relamping business out.
Report from the Field, Thursday
Crazy lab stuff of the day: the dental building was the last place I expected to get anything from. Today's find affirmed my belief that I am in fact relamping for umbrealla ella ella ay ay ay... corp. Get this: my security escort leads me to what looks like a maid's closet. When he opens it, it is a hallway instead of a closet. The two of us walk 5'-6' or so, then take a sharp right turn. Around this corner is windowless door with a single warning lable: Biohazard- Human cells. My sucurity escort opens the door and tells me, "All right man, just call me when you're done."
I walk through the door and find myself in what appears to be a mid-sized genetics lab (judging by the amount of gel electrophoresis machines). In the dental section. Ok... I start changing the lights. As I get towards the back, I find myself next to a large fume hood with a big-ass radiation symbol. Whatever. It wasn't on the door warning, but radiation ain't no thing.
I get to the end of the room, and find that there is infact a door to another lab area. I walk in there, and start relapming it. This room is chock full of computers and centrifuges. Ok. Centrifuges are used in genetic research. No big surprise here. As I finish up that room, I find yet another door. I walk through this, and find myself in an absolutely massive lab. The fuck? Why is this in a in the closet, of a closet, of a lab, that's in a closet? What's going on here?
Before I start relamping this area, I walk around and survey the room. Attached to this big-ass lab, there is another mid-sized lab in the back, several storage rooms, and a dark room. All in a broom closet. Why not.
I also notice that there is some fucked-up shit being stored on the main floor. In the center of the room, there is this big array of boxes and fridges. The boxes all turn out to be fire-proof, flammable material storage crates, and the fridges all turn out to be biohazardous material storage. Except one. The fridge in the very center was labeled to be a storage compartment for explosive biohazardous material. I don't even know...
Oh yeah, and the lab in the very back had a bunch of mice in it, and a huge array of microwaves. In the dental section. I didn't see a single fucking tooth in here, in this super-secret lab-within-a-lab-withing-a-lab-withing a broom closet. Umbrella corp... I think they're making boomer zombies or something.
Contrary to everyone's worst fears, the project has yet to be scrapped. There are a few people on this team who's work ethic is... lacking, and the rest of the crew was pretty confident that they'd end up screwing us. Thankfully, the questionable relampers have yet to make any utterly catastrophic mistakes. Sure they've broken a ton of lamps, but they haven't caused any more patients to get their faces drilled, or destroyed any million-dollar pieces of equipment.
With the exception of everyone's relief at finding we haven't been fired, the morning was pretty standard. My crew and I had already loaded the trucks up with supplies the previous night, so we were able to get straight to business. I started out back in the dental practice rooms, so I was able to get a good solid start.
Unfortunately, those rooms dried up pretty fast. Before I knew it, I was looking for another job assignment. Much to my disappointment, I was given the task of relamping the lobby area. While there are a lot of lights in there, the ceiling is too high for me to use my standard 6' ladder. Things are further complicated by the fact that the lobby area uses a different type of lamp from the standard.
Despite all that, I was still able to keep the lamps rolling. Hauling that 8' ladder around burned a good bit more energy, but everything seemed to be going Ok......
.....You know what? I don't feel like going into great detail about how the day went. I'm getting drunker by the minute, and I've got a bunch of other shit to cover. In summary, I put in 525 lamps. Not great, but sufficient. Anyways, the interesting stuff didn't start until the relamping was done for the night.
Caution: I seem to have an increasing shortage of sleep, and surplus of inebriation. I apologize for my shitty writing.
After everybody was finished loading their bad lamps onto pallets, the crew leader called everyone together for a meeting. Apparently, a couple (two guys, specifically) of the guys have been half-assing their jobs, and due to their half-assery, fixtures are starting to fall open. The earlier mentioned face-drilling incident was just the beginning.
Tonight, a member of the cleaning crew told the team leader that he had noticed an open fixture on one of the floors we'd already hit. With the threat of project closure still hanging in the air, the team lead (TL, from now in) naturally went to investigate. When he took a closer look at some of our previously covered stuff, TL noticed that a good number of the fixtures were improperly secured. This made TL nervous.
TL's response to this? Utilize our newly-acquired Friday work day to require everyone to walk throughout the building with stick, poking all of the fixture to make sure they're affixed properly. Here's the trick: My crew and I get payed per lamp installed, not fixture poked. So TL is trying to get us to poke a bunch of fixtures, for free, because two of our teammates are fuck-ups who are incapable of changing lightbulbs. Really? REALLY?! To hell with that.
The crew (By the way, when I say "The crew", I am referring to the non-fuckup guys. Myself, and 4 of the other orriginals. TL and the moron-cousins are not included). Anyways, the crew and I have decided that this is some bullshit. Everyone is drinking and shooting the shit tonight, with absolutely no intention of going into work tomorrow. Seriously. To hell with that.
About the Author Off the Clock
"About the Author" sounds silly, and implies that I will always use this section to write about myself. "Off the Clock" has a much better sound to it, and leaves me free to write about whatever the hell I want to.
I like to drink on occasion. When I do, my ability to write diminishes. This is one of those times. Since this post is already way too fucking long, I'll keep this very short.
My crew has just decided to start calling me switch. They say it's because I can open my knife so fast that it may as well be a switchblade, and that I can can adapt to situations so fast that it's like someone flipped a switch. I'm ok with this because switch is a pretty cool name, and nicknames are fun.
So anyways, this is your favorite, rather intoxicated, somewhat pissed off, increasingly tired, and decreasingly employed ottah-fox wishing you a good morning, good afternoon, and good night. Or something. WHARGARBLE!
P.S. My paycheck just posted for this week: ~$270.00. Fuckin' medical expenses...
Frenotx: *smirks* "Always" *Draws, opens, flips, and offers the knife, handle first*
Coworker: "Thanks!" *Turns, and uses knife to open a can of beans*
Frenotx :O
Coworker: *Returns the knife, horrible nicked blade and all.* "Thanks again, man"
Frenotx: *Sullenly looks down at the mauled blade, and makes a quiet whimper....*
I apologize in advance for the absurd length of this post. I couldn't type anything last night (My hands were really sore), so Wednesday and Thursday got lumped together. On top of that, a bunch of shit went down on both days.
Report from the Field, Wednesday
One of the the primary, ongoing complaints from UCSA about my crew's work is dust. What are we talking about? Dust. We're not talking about broken equipment. We're not talking about us destroying the experiments that these researchers pour their hearts and souls into. We're talking about dust. Dust. Now, I know we're supposed to be neat. I know we're supposed to put down drop cloths. But man, we're talking about dust! Why the hell is the relamping crew supposed to clean up every single speck of dust, when the custodians are going to be payed to clean it up less than 24 hours from now?!
With that in mind, you can imagine how I felt when the primary security escort called a meeting today. Oh great. More talk about dust. Much to my surprise, however, today's topic was not about barely-perceptible amounts of dirt. It was in fact about something far more dire.
As I said before, my team is currently working in the dental ward. Well, apparently one of the fixtures we worked on was not fully clipped back in place, and burst open in the middle of the day. This wouldn't normally be that big of a deal, but this particular fixture happen to be in one of the dental practice rooms. A practice room that was occupied by a doctor. A doctor who, at the time, had a drill in a patient's mouth. Yeah....
While I personally couldn't help but find this a little amusing, UCSA didn't seem to share my sentiments. Naturally, the facility (and the be-drilled patient) were rather displeased about this. The security escort tells us that they are SO displeased, that if there are any other complaints- any- then the project will be scrapped, and everyone will be sent home. Relamping is srs bsns.
After delivering this glum news, the security escort seemed to brighten up. My coworkers and I joke about this guy being either bipolar, a werewolf, or both, so know that when I say he "brightened up", I really mean it. With a big grin, he tells us that we have finally been approved to work on Fridays. Yippee hooray! Finally, when the project is on the very brink of cancellation, my crew and I can begin to work a full week! I'm still a bit skeptical about the whole thing, but excited none-the-less.
Anyways, with the meeting out of the way, my team got to work. I was assigned to the very promising-looking lecture hall. The sheer number of fixtures was a sight to look at, so I was pretty stoked to get going. Unfortunately, a closer look revealed that all of the fixtures were 2-lampers, and their lenses were extremely unreliable. At one point, one of then lenses actually fell on me as I was climbing up to it, and managed to preform a perfect judo-chop across my right shoulder. By the time I finished that room, I was starting to get rather flustered.
Thankfully, the security escort that was, well, escorting me seemed to notice this. The next area he sent me to was a bonifide gold mine. I was assigned an entire wing of the infamous dental practice rooms. While these rooms do require an increased amount of caution and attention to detail, the outrageous density of lamps more than makes up for it. Each of the little rooms has 3, 4-lamp fixtures in it. :) Seeing all of these lights seemed to thoroughly fire me back up, and put me into a veritable light-changing frenzy. Light's were practically flying out of my hands, and into the ceiling. To give you an idea of this madness, I was able to put in 98 lamps in less than 45 minutes.
Thanks to my end-of-the-night rampage, I was able to put in a total of 569 lamps- more than anyone else on the team. That brings my mvp count to 3. I don't want to get ahead of myself, but I'm starting to thing that my good nights are not entirely a product of good luck. It's crazy, I know, but I think I'm finally starting to figure this relamping business out.
Report from the Field, Thursday
Crazy lab stuff of the day: the dental building was the last place I expected to get anything from. Today's find affirmed my belief that I am in fact relamping for umbrealla ella ella ay ay ay... corp. Get this: my security escort leads me to what looks like a maid's closet. When he opens it, it is a hallway instead of a closet. The two of us walk 5'-6' or so, then take a sharp right turn. Around this corner is windowless door with a single warning lable: Biohazard- Human cells. My sucurity escort opens the door and tells me, "All right man, just call me when you're done."
I walk through the door and find myself in what appears to be a mid-sized genetics lab (judging by the amount of gel electrophoresis machines). In the dental section. Ok... I start changing the lights. As I get towards the back, I find myself next to a large fume hood with a big-ass radiation symbol. Whatever. It wasn't on the door warning, but radiation ain't no thing.
I get to the end of the room, and find that there is infact a door to another lab area. I walk in there, and start relapming it. This room is chock full of computers and centrifuges. Ok. Centrifuges are used in genetic research. No big surprise here. As I finish up that room, I find yet another door. I walk through this, and find myself in an absolutely massive lab. The fuck? Why is this in a in the closet, of a closet, of a lab, that's in a closet? What's going on here?
Before I start relamping this area, I walk around and survey the room. Attached to this big-ass lab, there is another mid-sized lab in the back, several storage rooms, and a dark room. All in a broom closet. Why not.
I also notice that there is some fucked-up shit being stored on the main floor. In the center of the room, there is this big array of boxes and fridges. The boxes all turn out to be fire-proof, flammable material storage crates, and the fridges all turn out to be biohazardous material storage. Except one. The fridge in the very center was labeled to be a storage compartment for explosive biohazardous material. I don't even know...
Oh yeah, and the lab in the very back had a bunch of mice in it, and a huge array of microwaves. In the dental section. I didn't see a single fucking tooth in here, in this super-secret lab-within-a-lab-withing-a-lab-withing a broom closet. Umbrella corp... I think they're making boomer zombies or something.
Contrary to everyone's worst fears, the project has yet to be scrapped. There are a few people on this team who's work ethic is... lacking, and the rest of the crew was pretty confident that they'd end up screwing us. Thankfully, the questionable relampers have yet to make any utterly catastrophic mistakes. Sure they've broken a ton of lamps, but they haven't caused any more patients to get their faces drilled, or destroyed any million-dollar pieces of equipment.
With the exception of everyone's relief at finding we haven't been fired, the morning was pretty standard. My crew and I had already loaded the trucks up with supplies the previous night, so we were able to get straight to business. I started out back in the dental practice rooms, so I was able to get a good solid start.
Unfortunately, those rooms dried up pretty fast. Before I knew it, I was looking for another job assignment. Much to my disappointment, I was given the task of relamping the lobby area. While there are a lot of lights in there, the ceiling is too high for me to use my standard 6' ladder. Things are further complicated by the fact that the lobby area uses a different type of lamp from the standard.
Despite all that, I was still able to keep the lamps rolling. Hauling that 8' ladder around burned a good bit more energy, but everything seemed to be going Ok......
.....You know what? I don't feel like going into great detail about how the day went. I'm getting drunker by the minute, and I've got a bunch of other shit to cover. In summary, I put in 525 lamps. Not great, but sufficient. Anyways, the interesting stuff didn't start until the relamping was done for the night.
Caution: I seem to have an increasing shortage of sleep, and surplus of inebriation. I apologize for my shitty writing.
After everybody was finished loading their bad lamps onto pallets, the crew leader called everyone together for a meeting. Apparently, a couple (two guys, specifically) of the guys have been half-assing their jobs, and due to their half-assery, fixtures are starting to fall open. The earlier mentioned face-drilling incident was just the beginning.
Tonight, a member of the cleaning crew told the team leader that he had noticed an open fixture on one of the floors we'd already hit. With the threat of project closure still hanging in the air, the team lead (TL, from now in) naturally went to investigate. When he took a closer look at some of our previously covered stuff, TL noticed that a good number of the fixtures were improperly secured. This made TL nervous.
TL's response to this? Utilize our newly-acquired Friday work day to require everyone to walk throughout the building with stick, poking all of the fixture to make sure they're affixed properly. Here's the trick: My crew and I get payed per lamp installed, not fixture poked. So TL is trying to get us to poke a bunch of fixtures, for free, because two of our teammates are fuck-ups who are incapable of changing lightbulbs. Really? REALLY?! To hell with that.
The crew (By the way, when I say "The crew", I am referring to the non-fuckup guys. Myself, and 4 of the other orriginals. TL and the moron-cousins are not included). Anyways, the crew and I have decided that this is some bullshit. Everyone is drinking and shooting the shit tonight, with absolutely no intention of going into work tomorrow. Seriously. To hell with that.
"About the Author" sounds silly, and implies that I will always use this section to write about myself. "Off the Clock" has a much better sound to it, and leaves me free to write about whatever the hell I want to.
I like to drink on occasion. When I do, my ability to write diminishes. This is one of those times. Since this post is already way too fucking long, I'll keep this very short.
My crew has just decided to start calling me switch. They say it's because I can open my knife so fast that it may as well be a switchblade, and that I can can adapt to situations so fast that it's like someone flipped a switch. I'm ok with this because switch is a pretty cool name, and nicknames are fun.
So anyways, this is your favorite, rather intoxicated, somewhat pissed off, increasingly tired, and decreasingly employed ottah-fox wishing you a good morning, good afternoon, and good night. Or something. WHARGARBLE!
P.S. My paycheck just posted for this week: ~$270.00. Fuckin' medical expenses...
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
3 Cheers for Reasonable Success!
WHATTHEFUCKISTHISSHIT?! WHOTHEFUCKDESIGNEDTHISGARBAGE?! IMGOINGTOFUCKINGKILLTHEM!!!!
-"Spoken" to a particularly difficult, rusted-out fixture. Right as my security guard escort walked up behind me.
Report for the Field, Tuesday
Today was an OK day, all said and done. While I didn't lead the team (or even really come close), I still managed to put in a solid 553 lamps. A bit surprising, considering all the weak-shit 2-lamp fixtures I got stuck with after my lunch break. When combined with the 530 from yesterday (Yes 530. Turns out I miscounted when I made my last post), that puts me roughly 73 limes ahead of my hourly equivalent. Not too shabby, I'd say.
You many have noticed a lack of "WTF for science." Well, that's because most of tonight's work was done in the dental ward. Sadly, there just isn't that much craziness to be had, there. There was one fun thing, though: You know how most labs have taps for natural gas? Well, the majority of rooms in the dental ward have N2O taps. That's right, the ward is plumbed for laughing gas. I was so very tempted to accidentally bump into one of those nozzles.
So far, there's still no word on whether or not my crew will be authorized to work on Fridays. I'm still hopeful, but I'm certainly not holding my breath. The administrative powers (both on my company's, and the facility's side) have proven themselves to be pretty unreliable. That being said, people can only stall over one subject for so long. Sooner or later, they have to come to some sort of agreement. My only concern is that by the time they work something out, the project might be mostly over.
On a completely unrelated note, a new chapter has begun in my relamping adventure. My fraternity is hosting a charity event on the weekend after Halloween. I really would like to be there, as I really enjoyed the event last time, and ended up raising a not-insignificant amount of money.
The event is called Extra Life for Kids (ELFK), and is essentially a 36 hour, non-stop video game marathon. For the kids. Like any other marathon, participants get people to pledge a certain amount of money per hour played. Alternatively, sponsors can also set out specific goals or milestones (Have 4 people play a full game of Borderlands, start to finish), and pay based on events completed. A 36-hour gaming binge sounds like just playing around at first, but I assure you it is legitimately difficult. I was one of only a handful of people to actually finish it, last year, and I was extremely fired at the end.
The trouble with this event, though, is the date. The weekend that it is occurring on looks like it's going take place 1 week into my next deployment to Texas. While I do have time off saved up, I don't know how willing the company will be to fly me all the way home to Atlanta for the weekend, just so I can use 1 or 2 of my payed holidays. (Monday and perhaps Tuesday, for recovery). I have contacted both my manager, and my manager's manager. They both told me that my proposed time off is withing the realm of possibility, but they can't promise me anything yet. I'll keep you guys updated as events unfold.
About the Author
I'm running a bit behind this morning, so instead of actually writing something here, I'll just give you a list of topics that I plan on covering in the future (in no particular order):
1) Religion
2) Furries
3) Hobbies
4) Sexuality
I'll probably be throwing some rants in, here and there, but those are the primary things I intend to cover over the next few days. Until then, this is your favorite, surprisingly energetic, increasingly better payed, and decreasingly sane ottah-fawks wishing you a good morning, good afternoon, or good night.
P.S. My friend Nick sent me this song, the other day. It is the very definition of awesome.
-"Spoken" to a particularly difficult, rusted-out fixture. Right as my security guard escort walked up behind me.
Report for the Field, Tuesday
Today was an OK day, all said and done. While I didn't lead the team (or even really come close), I still managed to put in a solid 553 lamps. A bit surprising, considering all the weak-shit 2-lamp fixtures I got stuck with after my lunch break. When combined with the 530 from yesterday (Yes 530. Turns out I miscounted when I made my last post), that puts me roughly 73 limes ahead of my hourly equivalent. Not too shabby, I'd say.
You many have noticed a lack of "WTF for science." Well, that's because most of tonight's work was done in the dental ward. Sadly, there just isn't that much craziness to be had, there. There was one fun thing, though: You know how most labs have taps for natural gas? Well, the majority of rooms in the dental ward have N2O taps. That's right, the ward is plumbed for laughing gas. I was so very tempted to accidentally bump into one of those nozzles.
So far, there's still no word on whether or not my crew will be authorized to work on Fridays. I'm still hopeful, but I'm certainly not holding my breath. The administrative powers (both on my company's, and the facility's side) have proven themselves to be pretty unreliable. That being said, people can only stall over one subject for so long. Sooner or later, they have to come to some sort of agreement. My only concern is that by the time they work something out, the project might be mostly over.
On a completely unrelated note, a new chapter has begun in my relamping adventure. My fraternity is hosting a charity event on the weekend after Halloween. I really would like to be there, as I really enjoyed the event last time, and ended up raising a not-insignificant amount of money.
The event is called Extra Life for Kids (ELFK), and is essentially a 36 hour, non-stop video game marathon. For the kids. Like any other marathon, participants get people to pledge a certain amount of money per hour played. Alternatively, sponsors can also set out specific goals or milestones (Have 4 people play a full game of Borderlands, start to finish), and pay based on events completed. A 36-hour gaming binge sounds like just playing around at first, but I assure you it is legitimately difficult. I was one of only a handful of people to actually finish it, last year, and I was extremely fired at the end.
The trouble with this event, though, is the date. The weekend that it is occurring on looks like it's going take place 1 week into my next deployment to Texas. While I do have time off saved up, I don't know how willing the company will be to fly me all the way home to Atlanta for the weekend, just so I can use 1 or 2 of my payed holidays. (Monday and perhaps Tuesday, for recovery). I have contacted both my manager, and my manager's manager. They both told me that my proposed time off is withing the realm of possibility, but they can't promise me anything yet. I'll keep you guys updated as events unfold.
About the Author
I'm running a bit behind this morning, so instead of actually writing something here, I'll just give you a list of topics that I plan on covering in the future (in no particular order):
1) Religion
2) Furries
3) Hobbies
4) Sexuality
I'll probably be throwing some rants in, here and there, but those are the primary things I intend to cover over the next few days. Until then, this is your favorite, surprisingly energetic, increasingly better payed, and decreasingly sane ottah-fawks wishing you a good morning, good afternoon, or good night.
P.S. My friend Nick sent me this song, the other day. It is the very definition of awesome.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Did it again >:D
Frenotx: "Man, why on earth did my internet just cut out?"
Windows: "Would you like me to diagnose it?"
Frenotx: "Stfu. You and I know that thing never works."
Windows: "You sure? I think I know what the problem is..."
Frenotx: "Yeah right. I can't think of a single time where you've helped. Jeeze, what is going on?! I can't even get my available wireless networks to show up!"
Windows: "Come on man, give me a chance!"
Frenotx: "FINE. What is it you're so eager to tell me?!"
Windows: "Your wireless radio is off."
Frenotx: *Slams shut the laptop, and goes to sleep for the night* "Man, I don't even NEED the internet, tonight."
Report from the Field, Monday
WTF lab contents of the day: Radioactive chlamydia.
...I'm not even kidding.
It would seem that I have made friends with Lady Luck. While everyone else seemed to have a rough night (only putting in mid-to-low 400's) I managed to lead the team with a respectable 505. I am rather pleased with this number, as it is the amount of lamps I need to install a night in order to match my hourly equivalent. That is, 505 limes is the amount I need to put in in order to make as much money as I would if I were working on my hourly rate, instead of piecerate.
In other news, it would seem that the lack of clearance to work on Fridays is not entirely the fault of John. In order for my crew and I to work that extra day, the security guards that escort us throughout the facility need to get payed overtime. At first, this was one of the primary hurdles preventing Friday work. Some time last week, though, my company offered to pay the overtime expenses out of it's own pocket, for the sake of speeding the project along. UCSA seemed to be OK with that for a while.
Then, in the middle of the week, they decided that they wanted all of the overtime to be payed up-front. Since my company has no way of knowing (with any real certainty) how much longer this job is going to take, this caused some problems. Until the two companies quit tiptoeing around and settle their differences, I'm stuck with M-Tr.
About the Author
I'm not really in the mood to write right now, so I'll be brief tonight.
One of the main driving forces in my life is my crippling fear of being an inconvenience to others. I absolutely dread the idea of somebody thinking to themselves, "Man, I sure wish that Quills character weren't around..." It's not that I want people to necessarily enjoy or seek out my company, I just never want them to regret it. My absolute goal in every interaction is for it to either end with a positive feeling, or at the very least, no feeling at all.
This leads to some interesting consequences. For one, people who don't know me often see me as stand-offish, or unapproachable. A lot of this is because I'm absolutely terrible at starting conversations with new people. Whenever I get into a situation where I could start talking with someone, I'm always paranoid that they might be bored with whatever subject I bring up, or just plain not feel like talking. Since either of those scenarios would leave the person feeling worse after interacting with me than before, the idea of them occurring absolutely horrifies me.
Due to this awkward way of seeing things, I often end up taking a rather passive role in social scenarios. I don't really feel comfortable talking until either: a) I hear a lull in a conversation about a topic I can contribute to, or b) Someone comes directly up to me and initiates a conversation. I even feel a little awkward in situation a, because it's hard to tell if the initial participants of the conversation want anybody else to join.
So yeah, if you see me sitting on the edge of the action, don't assume it's because I don't want to talk to anybody. Instead, it's probably because I don't want to piss anyone off. Feel free to walk up and ask me a question, or present me with your opinion on something. I really do enjoy talking with people, I just don't like to be the guy who starts the conversation.
Until text time, this is your favorite lamp-installing, apparently shy, silly-lucky ottah-fawks wishing you a good morning, good afternoon, and goodnight.
Windows: "Would you like me to diagnose it?"
Frenotx: "Stfu. You and I know that thing never works."
Windows: "You sure? I think I know what the problem is..."
Frenotx: "Yeah right. I can't think of a single time where you've helped. Jeeze, what is going on?! I can't even get my available wireless networks to show up!"
Windows: "Come on man, give me a chance!"
Frenotx: "FINE. What is it you're so eager to tell me?!"
Windows: "Your wireless radio is off."
Frenotx: *Slams shut the laptop, and goes to sleep for the night* "Man, I don't even NEED the internet, tonight."
Report from the Field, Monday
WTF lab contents of the day: Radioactive chlamydia.
...I'm not even kidding.
It would seem that I have made friends with Lady Luck. While everyone else seemed to have a rough night (only putting in mid-to-low 400's) I managed to lead the team with a respectable 505. I am rather pleased with this number, as it is the amount of lamps I need to install a night in order to match my hourly equivalent. That is, 505 limes is the amount I need to put in in order to make as much money as I would if I were working on my hourly rate, instead of piecerate.
In other news, it would seem that the lack of clearance to work on Fridays is not entirely the fault of John. In order for my crew and I to work that extra day, the security guards that escort us throughout the facility need to get payed overtime. At first, this was one of the primary hurdles preventing Friday work. Some time last week, though, my company offered to pay the overtime expenses out of it's own pocket, for the sake of speeding the project along. UCSA seemed to be OK with that for a while.
Then, in the middle of the week, they decided that they wanted all of the overtime to be payed up-front. Since my company has no way of knowing (with any real certainty) how much longer this job is going to take, this caused some problems. Until the two companies quit tiptoeing around and settle their differences, I'm stuck with M-Tr.
About the Author
I'm not really in the mood to write right now, so I'll be brief tonight.
One of the main driving forces in my life is my crippling fear of being an inconvenience to others. I absolutely dread the idea of somebody thinking to themselves, "Man, I sure wish that Quills character weren't around..." It's not that I want people to necessarily enjoy or seek out my company, I just never want them to regret it. My absolute goal in every interaction is for it to either end with a positive feeling, or at the very least, no feeling at all.
This leads to some interesting consequences. For one, people who don't know me often see me as stand-offish, or unapproachable. A lot of this is because I'm absolutely terrible at starting conversations with new people. Whenever I get into a situation where I could start talking with someone, I'm always paranoid that they might be bored with whatever subject I bring up, or just plain not feel like talking. Since either of those scenarios would leave the person feeling worse after interacting with me than before, the idea of them occurring absolutely horrifies me.
Due to this awkward way of seeing things, I often end up taking a rather passive role in social scenarios. I don't really feel comfortable talking until either: a) I hear a lull in a conversation about a topic I can contribute to, or b) Someone comes directly up to me and initiates a conversation. I even feel a little awkward in situation a, because it's hard to tell if the initial participants of the conversation want anybody else to join.
So yeah, if you see me sitting on the edge of the action, don't assume it's because I don't want to talk to anybody. Instead, it's probably because I don't want to piss anyone off. Feel free to walk up and ask me a question, or present me with your opinion on something. I really do enjoy talking with people, I just don't like to be the guy who starts the conversation.
Until text time, this is your favorite lamp-installing, apparently shy, silly-lucky ottah-fawks wishing you a good morning, good afternoon, and goodnight.
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Catching Up
"Man, you sure fucked up that omlette..."
"What omlette? I was totally making scrambled eggs."
<.<
>.>
Not a word.
First off, sorry for that god-awful introduction. I commend whoever was actually able to get though, and thoroughly excuse anybody who couldn't.
This is the end of the first week, of the second 3-week deployment. A bunch of crap happened on the time I was out here, but I don't feel like writing it all down, and I doubt anyone would feel like reading it. If something comes up that requires more background info I'll go into it, but for now we'll just stick this last week.
Monday
As everyone was getting set-up for work, the project developer showed up to give my crew a pep-talk, and inform us of some changes made to the job. In the past, this guy (we'll call him John for the sake of this journal) has shown himself to be nothing but a spineless pancake with little interest for this project, or the employees executing it. In fact, I have only even seen this guy one other time, and during that experience, all he did was act aloof, cause us to do extra work (which is not in the contract, and which we are not payed for), and give us these pathetic plastic carts (which we returned to the store that night). As you can imagine, we were not terribly thrilled with his presence.
Anyways, John gathers everyone together, and tells us that he has finally finished the paperwork that will allow us to work on Fridays. This is something that was supposed to have been done over a month ago, but it was welcome news none-the-less. Working Fridays means more overtime, which means more moolah at the end of the week. Besides, being out of town for work, I may as well spend my time, well, working. So yeah, this was exciting to hear.
He then goes on to tell us of a new incentive that has been created: "For every week you guys finish this project ahead of time, I'll give you a, like, $100 bonus." Upon first hearing this, I was naturally pleased. 100 extra dollars? Sure! After a moment of consideration, though, things began to fall apart.
First of all, this project is hopelessly behind schedule. When putting this project together, John grossly overestimated the speed that my crew and I would be able to work at. On our absolute best night, we were still only able to put in roughly 75% the number of lamps that we were expected to be able to average per night. Knowing this, it's pretty easy to see that this bonus is not only an unrealistic goal, but also a desperate attempt to try and hurry the project along.
Second of all, John actually used the word 'like' when describing the amount of money we would be awarded. "Like"? Really? You don't say like when you're providing important, solid information. When reading the directions for a medication, does the label tell you to take "Kinda, like 4 pills, or something"? No. "Like $100" could be anything $80 to $120, or more likely, nothing at all. When someone tells me they'll "kinda like" pay me some money to do something, I interpret that as, "You ain't gettin' shit".
So yeah, John once again left the crew feeling pretty negative. Moral was not improved when everyone was only able to put in a mediocre number of lamps. Well, everyone but me- my numbers were pretty ok (446 limes) Overall though, Monday made for a somewhat glum start for the second deployment.
Tuesday
...proved to be pretty bland. Everyone was feeling the system shock from switching back to a nocturnal schedule, and it showed in the numbers- only 329 for me. D: As it turns out, zombies don't make for the best relamping crew. Who knew?
The only item of interest on Tuesday was one of the labs I did. In this lab there were two things, the first being highly radioactive material. I'm talking about, stored-behind-a-foot-thick-metal-door kinda material. The stuff that is so radioactive, that the areas that you work with the stuff have big, warning-plastered covers over them.
The second thing stored in this lab were mouse cages. Lots and lots of mouse cages. There were no mice to be seen, but the cages had obviously been recently lived in. I have no way of knowing for sure, but I can't help but wonder if the mice had been transferred behind the big metal door. In any case, if the world ends due to a devastating plague of radioactive super-mice (or whatever rodent they are working on), you know where they came from. Fuckin' umbrella corp... When will they learn?
Wednesday
...was in a word, interesting. My stupid levels were absolutely off the charts this day, and almost got me in trouble a few times. Highlights include knocking over a large jug who's only label was the biohazard symbol, and finding myself stuck in the middle of a large, caustic-chemical-strewn lab with all of the lights off (Stupid timer switches). Thankfully, my stupidity seemed to also be accompanied by some degree of luck. The big bottle of killsyou had a well-fitting lid, and when the lights died in the chemical-minefield-of-a-lab, I happen to have my cap light equipped. Had I been less lucky, who knows what would have happened.
With this amount of idiocy apparently coursing through my veins, you might expect that my Wednesday numbers were especially shitty. Well, that wasn't quite the case. Not only did I shatter my previous record of 515, but I actually lead the team with a whopping 605! Whargarble! That's a lot of limes!
I'm still not entirely sure how the hell I managed to pull that off. All I know is that as the night was drawing to a close, I realized that I had installed over 525 lamps. Upon noticing this, I kinda kicked into overdrive mode. Those last ~75 lamps practically flew out of my hands, and into the fixtures. Listening to shit like this and this probably helped bring me into that furious, lamp-installing automaton state. I burned through all of my lamps at an alarming rate, and actually ended up needing to take some from one of my coworkers.
Either way, I ended the night feeling both content, and a bit hazy. I doubt I'll top the teams numbers again, but damn, it sure felt good. The moral of the story is this: "Try and maintain an average stupid-rate of no more than 2.5 dph (Derps per hour), unless you're installing lamps in a hazardous environment- apparently that shit speeds you up, there."
Thursday
...was a day of recovery, more than anything else. After burning at 110% the previous night, most of my lamp-changing muscles were pretty sore- especially my hands. It may not seem like it would be, but relamping is a beast of a workout on your grip. With a couple of the fixtures, I'll hold 2, 4' bulbs in my hands, as I use my fingertips to screw in a third. That shit will wear you out when you do it, like, 150 times.
Between being tired, getting stuck with some lame room assignment, and the entire crew kinda slacking off for the last hour of work, I was only able to install a meager 350 lamps. Not the end of the world, but certainly nothing to be particularly proud of.
The only thing of note that happened on Thursday was the revelation that John is in fact, a jackass. About 3/4 of the way through the night, my crew and I were informed that we would not be able to work on Fridays. When I asked why, I was told it was because someone failed to submit the required paperwork. John, I am disappoint.
-------
With that, you guys are more-or-less caught up with this deployment, thus far. On a normal post, this is the point at which I would either talk something unrelated to work. Some aspect of my personality, my opinion on something, etc. Since this post is already really long, though, I'll just hold off on starting that crap until tomorrow. Until then, this is you favorite, slightly narcissistic, rather tired otterfox saying, good morning, good afternoon, and good night.
"What omlette? I was totally making scrambled eggs."
<.<
>.>
Not a word.
First off, sorry for that god-awful introduction. I commend whoever was actually able to get though, and thoroughly excuse anybody who couldn't.
This is the end of the first week, of the second 3-week deployment. A bunch of crap happened on the time I was out here, but I don't feel like writing it all down, and I doubt anyone would feel like reading it. If something comes up that requires more background info I'll go into it, but for now we'll just stick this last week.
Monday
As everyone was getting set-up for work, the project developer showed up to give my crew a pep-talk, and inform us of some changes made to the job. In the past, this guy (we'll call him John for the sake of this journal) has shown himself to be nothing but a spineless pancake with little interest for this project, or the employees executing it. In fact, I have only even seen this guy one other time, and during that experience, all he did was act aloof, cause us to do extra work (which is not in the contract, and which we are not payed for), and give us these pathetic plastic carts (which we returned to the store that night). As you can imagine, we were not terribly thrilled with his presence.
Anyways, John gathers everyone together, and tells us that he has finally finished the paperwork that will allow us to work on Fridays. This is something that was supposed to have been done over a month ago, but it was welcome news none-the-less. Working Fridays means more overtime, which means more moolah at the end of the week. Besides, being out of town for work, I may as well spend my time, well, working. So yeah, this was exciting to hear.
He then goes on to tell us of a new incentive that has been created: "For every week you guys finish this project ahead of time, I'll give you a, like, $100 bonus." Upon first hearing this, I was naturally pleased. 100 extra dollars? Sure! After a moment of consideration, though, things began to fall apart.
First of all, this project is hopelessly behind schedule. When putting this project together, John grossly overestimated the speed that my crew and I would be able to work at. On our absolute best night, we were still only able to put in roughly 75% the number of lamps that we were expected to be able to average per night. Knowing this, it's pretty easy to see that this bonus is not only an unrealistic goal, but also a desperate attempt to try and hurry the project along.
Second of all, John actually used the word 'like' when describing the amount of money we would be awarded. "Like"? Really? You don't say like when you're providing important, solid information. When reading the directions for a medication, does the label tell you to take "Kinda, like 4 pills, or something"? No. "Like $100" could be anything $80 to $120, or more likely, nothing at all. When someone tells me they'll "kinda like" pay me some money to do something, I interpret that as, "You ain't gettin' shit".
So yeah, John once again left the crew feeling pretty negative. Moral was not improved when everyone was only able to put in a mediocre number of lamps. Well, everyone but me- my numbers were pretty ok (446 limes) Overall though, Monday made for a somewhat glum start for the second deployment.
Tuesday
...proved to be pretty bland. Everyone was feeling the system shock from switching back to a nocturnal schedule, and it showed in the numbers- only 329 for me. D: As it turns out, zombies don't make for the best relamping crew. Who knew?
The only item of interest on Tuesday was one of the labs I did. In this lab there were two things, the first being highly radioactive material. I'm talking about, stored-behind-a-foot-thick-metal-door kinda material. The stuff that is so radioactive, that the areas that you work with the stuff have big, warning-plastered covers over them.
The second thing stored in this lab were mouse cages. Lots and lots of mouse cages. There were no mice to be seen, but the cages had obviously been recently lived in. I have no way of knowing for sure, but I can't help but wonder if the mice had been transferred behind the big metal door. In any case, if the world ends due to a devastating plague of radioactive super-mice (or whatever rodent they are working on), you know where they came from. Fuckin' umbrella corp... When will they learn?
Wednesday
...was in a word, interesting. My stupid levels were absolutely off the charts this day, and almost got me in trouble a few times. Highlights include knocking over a large jug who's only label was the biohazard symbol, and finding myself stuck in the middle of a large, caustic-chemical-strewn lab with all of the lights off (Stupid timer switches). Thankfully, my stupidity seemed to also be accompanied by some degree of luck. The big bottle of killsyou had a well-fitting lid, and when the lights died in the chemical-minefield-of-a-lab, I happen to have my cap light equipped. Had I been less lucky, who knows what would have happened.
With this amount of idiocy apparently coursing through my veins, you might expect that my Wednesday numbers were especially shitty. Well, that wasn't quite the case. Not only did I shatter my previous record of 515, but I actually lead the team with a whopping 605! Whargarble! That's a lot of limes!
I'm still not entirely sure how the hell I managed to pull that off. All I know is that as the night was drawing to a close, I realized that I had installed over 525 lamps. Upon noticing this, I kinda kicked into overdrive mode. Those last ~75 lamps practically flew out of my hands, and into the fixtures. Listening to shit like this and this probably helped bring me into that furious, lamp-installing automaton state. I burned through all of my lamps at an alarming rate, and actually ended up needing to take some from one of my coworkers.
Either way, I ended the night feeling both content, and a bit hazy. I doubt I'll top the teams numbers again, but damn, it sure felt good. The moral of the story is this: "Try and maintain an average stupid-rate of no more than 2.5 dph (Derps per hour), unless you're installing lamps in a hazardous environment- apparently that shit speeds you up, there."
Thursday
...was a day of recovery, more than anything else. After burning at 110% the previous night, most of my lamp-changing muscles were pretty sore- especially my hands. It may not seem like it would be, but relamping is a beast of a workout on your grip. With a couple of the fixtures, I'll hold 2, 4' bulbs in my hands, as I use my fingertips to screw in a third. That shit will wear you out when you do it, like, 150 times.
Between being tired, getting stuck with some lame room assignment, and the entire crew kinda slacking off for the last hour of work, I was only able to install a meager 350 lamps. Not the end of the world, but certainly nothing to be particularly proud of.
The only thing of note that happened on Thursday was the revelation that John is in fact, a jackass. About 3/4 of the way through the night, my crew and I were informed that we would not be able to work on Fridays. When I asked why, I was told it was because someone failed to submit the required paperwork. John, I am disappoint.
-------
With that, you guys are more-or-less caught up with this deployment, thus far. On a normal post, this is the point at which I would either talk something unrelated to work. Some aspect of my personality, my opinion on something, etc. Since this post is already really long, though, I'll just hold off on starting that crap until tomorrow. Until then, this is you favorite, slightly narcissistic, rather tired otterfox saying, good morning, good afternoon, and good night.
Friday, October 8, 2010
Introductions, and Such
Hey, thanks for stopping by. I'll get this started by providing some general background info. I'll try and keep it brief, since I can't see how it would actually be all that interesting.
My name is Erin Quillin, however I go by a couple of names. I'm mostly called Erin at work and at home, Quills or Quillin by my friends, and Frenotx (Fren - Ox) everywhere online. I think of all my names, Frenotx is my favorite. Due to it's propensity for confusing people, though, I'm ok with most people just calling me Quills.
I was born on July 13, 1989 in Virginia Beach, Virginia. When I was quite young (before I can really remember), I moved to St. Petersburg, Fl. In the 6th grade, I moved to Brookfield, Wi. After one year of awesome, I moved back to muggy old St. Pete. (oddly enough, my new house had the same address as my old one, only it was 6 streets down.) I stayed there until I completed my sophomore year in high school, after which I moved to Roswell, Ga. I have stayed there since. (My god that was a lot of I's)
I graduated high school in 2007, and went to Georgia Tech for my college schoolin's. My first year went pretty well, but I soon found myself experiencing a crisis of motivation. Intellectually, I understood the importance of doing well in classes, but I still just couldn't bring myself to really put any effort into them. Sounds stupid, I know, but them's the breaks. Due to this (and a few other reasons), I opted to put my formal education on hold, and spend some time in the real world. Well, real enough anyway.
After a good amount of thought, I made the decision that I wanted to join the Navy. The Navy is something that I've considered doing for a long time. In fact, I was this close to going to the Naval Academy, instead of Georgia Tech. So upon realizing that I needed some serious head-straightening, enlisting seemed like a logical choice. I went through the lengthy process of signing up, only to get cock-blocked when I got to the physical exam. Overall, I was in very good condition. My eyesight, however, disqualified me from all of the jobs I had any interest in. The only way I'd be able to the stuff I wanted to do, was to get my eyes fixed. So I did, about 2 months ago.
The aforementioned eye work was rather expensive. In fact, the only way I was able to do it was through the use of my current employment's health plan. This plan allowed me to essentially take out a tax-free loan for use on all things medical. The catch is that the loan has to be payed off by the end of the year, and any money not utilized by that point is permanently lost. Since I spent the whole damn thing in one place, that means that I only have to worry about the second part. As it turns out, paying off a large loan in only a few months means that each payment is really big. Like, most of my paycheck big.
Which brigs us to the present. I am currently working in the lighting division of a large company, doing relamping. "Relamper" is essentially a fancy name for "Professional light bulb-changer". This means that I get sent to remote locations for three weeks at a time, and change out all of the lights at the establishment for new ones, whether they're bad or not. Instead of getting payed hourly, I get payed per lamp installed. I won't say the exact amount, but I will say that it's roughly the cost of a lime. Hence the title of this blog.
With that out of the way, I can get to the meat of this journal- the job. My current project has me relamping in what I'm confident is the San Antonio division of the Umbrella Corporation. Biohazards, radiation, and crazy sciency-shit are common in my work environment. My hours are 4pm to 4am, Monday through Thursday. Since this is the fourth week (first week of the second deployment) I've been out here, you guys are a bit behind on the saga, thus far.
Over the weekend, I'll post a summary to try and get everyone caught up. Keep in mind that this is not the planned regular format of this blog- once the introduction and summary are out of the way, I can start putting up normal-length posts that are actually (hopefully) interesting.
My name is Erin Quillin, however I go by a couple of names. I'm mostly called Erin at work and at home, Quills or Quillin by my friends, and Frenotx (Fren - Ox) everywhere online. I think of all my names, Frenotx is my favorite. Due to it's propensity for confusing people, though, I'm ok with most people just calling me Quills.
I was born on July 13, 1989 in Virginia Beach, Virginia. When I was quite young (before I can really remember), I moved to St. Petersburg, Fl. In the 6th grade, I moved to Brookfield, Wi. After one year of awesome, I moved back to muggy old St. Pete. (oddly enough, my new house had the same address as my old one, only it was 6 streets down.) I stayed there until I completed my sophomore year in high school, after which I moved to Roswell, Ga. I have stayed there since. (My god that was a lot of I's)
I graduated high school in 2007, and went to Georgia Tech for my college schoolin's. My first year went pretty well, but I soon found myself experiencing a crisis of motivation. Intellectually, I understood the importance of doing well in classes, but I still just couldn't bring myself to really put any effort into them. Sounds stupid, I know, but them's the breaks. Due to this (and a few other reasons), I opted to put my formal education on hold, and spend some time in the real world. Well, real enough anyway.
After a good amount of thought, I made the decision that I wanted to join the Navy. The Navy is something that I've considered doing for a long time. In fact, I was this close to going to the Naval Academy, instead of Georgia Tech. So upon realizing that I needed some serious head-straightening, enlisting seemed like a logical choice. I went through the lengthy process of signing up, only to get cock-blocked when I got to the physical exam. Overall, I was in very good condition. My eyesight, however, disqualified me from all of the jobs I had any interest in. The only way I'd be able to the stuff I wanted to do, was to get my eyes fixed. So I did, about 2 months ago.
The aforementioned eye work was rather expensive. In fact, the only way I was able to do it was through the use of my current employment's health plan. This plan allowed me to essentially take out a tax-free loan for use on all things medical. The catch is that the loan has to be payed off by the end of the year, and any money not utilized by that point is permanently lost. Since I spent the whole damn thing in one place, that means that I only have to worry about the second part. As it turns out, paying off a large loan in only a few months means that each payment is really big. Like, most of my paycheck big.
Which brigs us to the present. I am currently working in the lighting division of a large company, doing relamping. "Relamper" is essentially a fancy name for "Professional light bulb-changer". This means that I get sent to remote locations for three weeks at a time, and change out all of the lights at the establishment for new ones, whether they're bad or not. Instead of getting payed hourly, I get payed per lamp installed. I won't say the exact amount, but I will say that it's roughly the cost of a lime. Hence the title of this blog.
With that out of the way, I can get to the meat of this journal- the job. My current project has me relamping in what I'm confident is the San Antonio division of the Umbrella Corporation. Biohazards, radiation, and crazy sciency-shit are common in my work environment. My hours are 4pm to 4am, Monday through Thursday. Since this is the fourth week (first week of the second deployment) I've been out here, you guys are a bit behind on the saga, thus far.
Over the weekend, I'll post a summary to try and get everyone caught up. Keep in mind that this is not the planned regular format of this blog- once the introduction and summary are out of the way, I can start putting up normal-length posts that are actually (hopefully) interesting.
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