I can hold my head still with my hands at my knees.
The question has been asked.. what happened yesterday?
And I wasnt being mysterious, or a sympathy-junkie, I just couldn’t work out where to take the first bite at telling it and I needed to hold until the shivers subsided.
Because of the risk of causing polarity amongst the supervisors and having two factions that would lead to greater destabilisation in our already segregated workplace, I have declined to comment at work except to a couple of the older figures who, like wise garden gnomes, watch and nod. And call me “Girl” but in a deep Northcountry accent that is more likely to bring me to tears than the words that were shouted at me.
One of the supervisors, who I have long been .. wary of, was caught out in letting his guys go early, and then falsifying their time sheets. Four hours extra at time-and-a-half is a fair amount. He was caught out because there was a minor accident in his area and I noticed, that despite my request that they come down and give statements when they came in for lunch at 2, they had … vanished.
I was asked why I hadn’t taken the statements – my answer led to further investigation and the brimstone began.
And then on Sunday morning, at 6am, he was standing over me, shouting, pointing, screaming, threatening. I am not tall. I’m not very big.
But I have seen much worse things than an almost incoherent idiot shouting at me; though now, I am tired.
The scary part was that I ended up with a nosebleed; which led some of the new management types, who are taking over where my company has been slowly and steadily faltering, to be concerned that this person had hit me.
Not quite, I could see it cross his mind though.
Red stains on orange shirts..
This isn’t where I thought we’d end up, everyone.
I’m still getting paid, and I still hope that Plan Woolly 2.0 has a chance of going ahead… but I am flying home on Sunday night, and not coming back, is something that is on my mind.
There are some other job offers that have their attractions, the scenery would be lovely at one, and two others are… in Canberra. Where the parents are… where I technically call home.
Is it time to stop wandering the desert and go back to a big city?
I don’t know.
We just have to keep the balls in the air until Monday.
I still don’t know how the hell I’m going to get all this yarn packed up!!!!
Tomorrow night.. we’ll look at the question of “how much sock yarn can you fit into an Ex-Navy dufflebag?”
Hugs to you all!!