![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
So what happened?
Nov. 14th, 2018 09:46 amFor those who might not be in the know, I had recently applied for a holiday job at the post office as a "Holiday Clerk Assistant." It sounded great, and with my clerical background as a Senior Office Clerk at AT&T for 13 years, I thought it would be a perfect match.
The interview I had with them went quite well, and aside from them saying I'd be on my feet all day and lifting the occasional heavy package, nothing initially seemed amiss (that, and it sounding less and less like a traditional "clerical" job like the ones I've had in the past). The job was only going to be for 6 weeks, but there was always the possibility of staying on, or at least having a better chance to be hired if another opening came up after the job had ended. I went through all their background checks, CORI, driving records, credit checks, et cetera, and eventually I was hired. My two-day orientation started on November 11, and I would get my assignment during that time.
Orientation was held at the Providence post office; a HUGE, modern facility with all kinds of scanners and sorters and sniffers and other logistical wonders. Having never been a facility like this before, it was all very interesting. But as orientation went on, nothing seemed to describe in more detail exactly what my job consisted of (short of what I was told during my interview that "scanning packages is the utmost importance to your job"). It didn't help that out of the 50 people there for orientation, perhaps 5 (myself included) weren't going to be working in Providence.
I received my assignment on a little slip of paper that said I would be working in the Mt. Pleasant Street office on Tuesday, and my start time was three in the morning. I hit the sack early for my shift. As was the norm for me, getting to sleep was easier than staying asleep. I arrived a little early showing my eagerness to get started. After being shown the equipment and instructed on what to do and how to do it, I got started. I was working with another person, Warren (a really nice guy... and he was a freakin' MACHINE! You could tell this wasn't his first rodeo).
Mentally, the job was simple enough: scan the tracking bar codes on boxes and packets and put them in either in the appropriate basket (for flat materials and small packets/boxes) or wheeled bin (for larger boxes/bulky packets) according to the mail carrier's route.
Physically, the job consisted of lots of bending, stretching, walking packages to the bins, changing full baskets for empty ones, and carrying those baskets to the appropriate mail carrier's stations. Also helping to unload mail trucks as they come in, wheeling pallets of packages to the scanning station... Generally, a lot of physical work.
I was fine for the first hour. By the second hour, I had a stabbing pain in my back (I have a "knot" of muscle in my upper back near my right shoulder blade that will act up now and again, and it was doing so in spades). By hour three, I knew I was in deep trouble as the upper back pain had been joined with leg pain, lower back screaming, dizzy spells and mental fuzziness. I took a small break, drank some water, and went back into it again. I lasted another hour, when the boss, concerned with my staggering around, told me to take a longer break. To say I was frustrated and angry with myself was an understatement. I went out onto the floor one last time, but after a half hour, the boss told me to go to the break room and rest... and not to come out until I can be steady on my feet again. I knew that was it for me and this job.
We had a "talk" afterward. I explained what was going on with me, he explained his safety concerns, and we both agreed that this just wasn't the right job for me in my present condition. I would be paid for my time, and I signed the resignation form.
So there went the money I was going to use for a new computer I wanted to build, repairing my car's exhaust system (it's sounding a little louder than normal), real estate tax due in February, deductible for my medications in January, and any other spare money I could save and use for whatever.
If I was the me of the mid-1990s, I would have no problem in doing that job. But, after being in a fairly sedentary job for 13+ years, then being sedentary and out-of-work for another 8+ years, going in head-first full force into a job that demanded even a moderate amount of physical labor just did me in.
What will I do now? Survive. Keep looking for another job more in-line with what I had been doing before I got laid off... even though that avenue has been coming up with nothing for the last 5+ years. I'm sure something will come up.
...eventually.
The interview I had with them went quite well, and aside from them saying I'd be on my feet all day and lifting the occasional heavy package, nothing initially seemed amiss (that, and it sounding less and less like a traditional "clerical" job like the ones I've had in the past). The job was only going to be for 6 weeks, but there was always the possibility of staying on, or at least having a better chance to be hired if another opening came up after the job had ended. I went through all their background checks, CORI, driving records, credit checks, et cetera, and eventually I was hired. My two-day orientation started on November 11, and I would get my assignment during that time.
Orientation was held at the Providence post office; a HUGE, modern facility with all kinds of scanners and sorters and sniffers and other logistical wonders. Having never been a facility like this before, it was all very interesting. But as orientation went on, nothing seemed to describe in more detail exactly what my job consisted of (short of what I was told during my interview that "scanning packages is the utmost importance to your job"). It didn't help that out of the 50 people there for orientation, perhaps 5 (myself included) weren't going to be working in Providence.
I received my assignment on a little slip of paper that said I would be working in the Mt. Pleasant Street office on Tuesday, and my start time was three in the morning. I hit the sack early for my shift. As was the norm for me, getting to sleep was easier than staying asleep. I arrived a little early showing my eagerness to get started. After being shown the equipment and instructed on what to do and how to do it, I got started. I was working with another person, Warren (a really nice guy... and he was a freakin' MACHINE! You could tell this wasn't his first rodeo).
Mentally, the job was simple enough: scan the tracking bar codes on boxes and packets and put them in either in the appropriate basket (for flat materials and small packets/boxes) or wheeled bin (for larger boxes/bulky packets) according to the mail carrier's route.
Physically, the job consisted of lots of bending, stretching, walking packages to the bins, changing full baskets for empty ones, and carrying those baskets to the appropriate mail carrier's stations. Also helping to unload mail trucks as they come in, wheeling pallets of packages to the scanning station... Generally, a lot of physical work.
I was fine for the first hour. By the second hour, I had a stabbing pain in my back (I have a "knot" of muscle in my upper back near my right shoulder blade that will act up now and again, and it was doing so in spades). By hour three, I knew I was in deep trouble as the upper back pain had been joined with leg pain, lower back screaming, dizzy spells and mental fuzziness. I took a small break, drank some water, and went back into it again. I lasted another hour, when the boss, concerned with my staggering around, told me to take a longer break. To say I was frustrated and angry with myself was an understatement. I went out onto the floor one last time, but after a half hour, the boss told me to go to the break room and rest... and not to come out until I can be steady on my feet again. I knew that was it for me and this job.
We had a "talk" afterward. I explained what was going on with me, he explained his safety concerns, and we both agreed that this just wasn't the right job for me in my present condition. I would be paid for my time, and I signed the resignation form.
So there went the money I was going to use for a new computer I wanted to build, repairing my car's exhaust system (it's sounding a little louder than normal), real estate tax due in February, deductible for my medications in January, and any other spare money I could save and use for whatever.
If I was the me of the mid-1990s, I would have no problem in doing that job. But, after being in a fairly sedentary job for 13+ years, then being sedentary and out-of-work for another 8+ years, going in head-first full force into a job that demanded even a moderate amount of physical labor just did me in.
What will I do now? Survive. Keep looking for another job more in-line with what I had been doing before I got laid off... even though that avenue has been coming up with nothing for the last 5+ years. I'm sure something will come up.
...eventually.
