And in a flash, it’s gone!
That’s right, you all should know what I am talking about. The weekend! I know I have written it before but it seems no sooner have we counted out the last frustrating seconds until we knockoff on a Friday night that we are suddenly avoiding going to bed on Sunday evening, desperately trying to stretch every last minute out of our sacred days of rest.
Of course it isn’t too bad for me. Work has been, well, not pleasant but bearable in the week and a half that I have been back although many of my friends and regular confederates have been on holiday so it does leave me a little isolated. The hours seem to stretch like gravity being drawn into a black hole and it becomes a bit of a trial to get through the day, especially when the work is light on as it has been this last week.
Every second week we have a team discussion which is hardly what it implies. We are called into the briefing room where the supervisor in his best monotone delivery gives us a rundown of complaints, directives and initiatives and asks hopefully at the end of this one sided meeting if anyone has anything to say which is usually a resounding no. This week, as the rank and file of my shift dutifully filed in to hear the one sided dialogue of our subaltern, I noticed something quite peculiar.
One by one they entered, Vietnamese, Laotian and one or two that no one seems to be able to figure until finally the supervisor made his appearance and sat down. Then it dawned on me. The supervisor and myself were the only two Anglo-Saxons in the room!
The stark realisation that I was definitely in the minority didn’t strike fear into my heart or bring out the raging redneck in me. I have worked at my place of employment for far too long and know those ensconced in the room with me far too well to harbour any ill feeling generated by naivety or foolish racial prejudice.
There are other “Anglos” working on other shifts but I momentarily felt alone although my workmates would scoff at me for thinking in such a way for they have known me many years and for the most part have always been very friendly and helpful to me.
My feeling of reclusion soon passed and I returned quickly to the ennui of workfloor practice but it got me thinking about the state of the world and how familiarity bred by my multicultural workplace has really insulated me to the reality of ethnic makeup within the organization and perhaps, for the first time a realisation that most people, whatever the colour of their skin are pretty much the same, despite the superficial differences that may be apparent..
This hasn’t stopped me from looking at a bigger picture and the occasional twinge in the back of my brain which tips my mind into a feeling that I would one day like to work with like minded people, those who have in common with me upbringing and values which may be similar to mine. The people I work with are fine but I do feel out of place at times. A change of scenery would be a breath of fresh air as the loneliness of isolation can be very tedious. But I make my way just fine in spite of myself.
And tomorrow it begins again although it holds no fears for me. Some of my regular intimates shall return and the detached and secluded side of me will once again retreat to it’s hiding place and the other side of my personality, the part which only arises from the depths to save me from the perennial tiresomeness of labour and plausible drop into insanity will appear and the hours and minutes will fall off the day as easily as petals from a decaying daffodil.
And so I will leave you for the night and let you ponder on why, once again you have chosen to venture down this path with me, only to find it is a literary road to nowhere and I leave you, hoping that you do not feel the last few minutes have been a waste of time. Onward and upwards, the working week shall soon begin anew.
Have nice night.
That’s right, you all should know what I am talking about. The weekend! I know I have written it before but it seems no sooner have we counted out the last frustrating seconds until we knockoff on a Friday night that we are suddenly avoiding going to bed on Sunday evening, desperately trying to stretch every last minute out of our sacred days of rest.
Of course it isn’t too bad for me. Work has been, well, not pleasant but bearable in the week and a half that I have been back although many of my friends and regular confederates have been on holiday so it does leave me a little isolated. The hours seem to stretch like gravity being drawn into a black hole and it becomes a bit of a trial to get through the day, especially when the work is light on as it has been this last week.
Every second week we have a team discussion which is hardly what it implies. We are called into the briefing room where the supervisor in his best monotone delivery gives us a rundown of complaints, directives and initiatives and asks hopefully at the end of this one sided meeting if anyone has anything to say which is usually a resounding no. This week, as the rank and file of my shift dutifully filed in to hear the one sided dialogue of our subaltern, I noticed something quite peculiar.
One by one they entered, Vietnamese, Laotian and one or two that no one seems to be able to figure until finally the supervisor made his appearance and sat down. Then it dawned on me. The supervisor and myself were the only two Anglo-Saxons in the room!
The stark realisation that I was definitely in the minority didn’t strike fear into my heart or bring out the raging redneck in me. I have worked at my place of employment for far too long and know those ensconced in the room with me far too well to harbour any ill feeling generated by naivety or foolish racial prejudice.
There are other “Anglos” working on other shifts but I momentarily felt alone although my workmates would scoff at me for thinking in such a way for they have known me many years and for the most part have always been very friendly and helpful to me.
My feeling of reclusion soon passed and I returned quickly to the ennui of workfloor practice but it got me thinking about the state of the world and how familiarity bred by my multicultural workplace has really insulated me to the reality of ethnic makeup within the organization and perhaps, for the first time a realisation that most people, whatever the colour of their skin are pretty much the same, despite the superficial differences that may be apparent..
This hasn’t stopped me from looking at a bigger picture and the occasional twinge in the back of my brain which tips my mind into a feeling that I would one day like to work with like minded people, those who have in common with me upbringing and values which may be similar to mine. The people I work with are fine but I do feel out of place at times. A change of scenery would be a breath of fresh air as the loneliness of isolation can be very tedious. But I make my way just fine in spite of myself.
And tomorrow it begins again although it holds no fears for me. Some of my regular intimates shall return and the detached and secluded side of me will once again retreat to it’s hiding place and the other side of my personality, the part which only arises from the depths to save me from the perennial tiresomeness of labour and plausible drop into insanity will appear and the hours and minutes will fall off the day as easily as petals from a decaying daffodil.
And so I will leave you for the night and let you ponder on why, once again you have chosen to venture down this path with me, only to find it is a literary road to nowhere and I leave you, hoping that you do not feel the last few minutes have been a waste of time. Onward and upwards, the working week shall soon begin anew.
Have nice night.
Strange Notations From a Laborious Life 