My first weekend of work, after six months of being an idle layabout, consists of four twelve hour days that started on Friday at 5:30am and ended at 5:30pm. I've now gone through Sunday. Only one more to go, and then I get three days off until I go back next Friday for a three day work week finishing on Sunday, and then I get four days off....and on, and on it goes...just like that.
I love it! Get it all over with and then enjoy the leisure time.
I was walking to the lunch room on my first day when the Big Boss came walking by wearing old jeans and a baggy crumpled T shirt. The top of his head looked like it had never ever met a comb. He stopped me so as to give me a welcome back. The guy is very sharp, he knows what you are going to say after yer first word comes out, a pause only allows him to finish what you were going to say, but you'd never know it to look at him.
My personal new boss is a black guy, and the poll was wrong, because he's a laid back, but very efficient, dude, and he has already earned my respect. We'll get along fine. My new work mates come from all over the globe. Out of around forty or so people that make up our team, there's only one other white guy, but, it really doesn't matter.
I've delved into my racist inclinations, and I've met them head on, and in a way it's good that I once felt the way I did, because in many ways the confrontation that went on inside me poor ould booze sozzled head has forced me to grow into a bigger and broader state of mind. I would even go so far as to say that if there is such a thing as reincarnation, and I suspect that there is, it's been deemed by the Big Boss in the Sky that my time in this life is meant for me to break through racial barriers.
It's not like I'm a natural, like, because I am very conscious of the racial differences of my work mates. It's bloody hard not to be; it's like, in yer face.
What a scene eh? What a strange scene it really is, and they can all talk more languages than I can, not that that's saying much.
Maybe in my next life I'll be forced to understand bloody Martians! Who knows?
Onward and upward, that's what I say.
Waltre
I love it! Get it all over with and then enjoy the leisure time.
I was walking to the lunch room on my first day when the Big Boss came walking by wearing old jeans and a baggy crumpled T shirt. The top of his head looked like it had never ever met a comb. He stopped me so as to give me a welcome back. The guy is very sharp, he knows what you are going to say after yer first word comes out, a pause only allows him to finish what you were going to say, but you'd never know it to look at him.
My personal new boss is a black guy, and the poll was wrong, because he's a laid back, but very efficient, dude, and he has already earned my respect. We'll get along fine. My new work mates come from all over the globe. Out of around forty or so people that make up our team, there's only one other white guy, but, it really doesn't matter.
I've delved into my racist inclinations, and I've met them head on, and in a way it's good that I once felt the way I did, because in many ways the confrontation that went on inside me poor ould booze sozzled head has forced me to grow into a bigger and broader state of mind. I would even go so far as to say that if there is such a thing as reincarnation, and I suspect that there is, it's been deemed by the Big Boss in the Sky that my time in this life is meant for me to break through racial barriers.
It's not like I'm a natural, like, because I am very conscious of the racial differences of my work mates. It's bloody hard not to be; it's like, in yer face.
What a scene eh? What a strange scene it really is, and they can all talk more languages than I can, not that that's saying much.
Maybe in my next life I'll be forced to understand bloody Martians! Who knows?
Onward and upward, that's what I say.
Waltre
posted by WaltsWorld at
7:58 PM
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