Jo-Jo the Monkey Boy decides to rant
I'm gonna rant just hoping to get it off my chest.
It's an unusual week at Castello Cipolla. Dad (henceforth referred to as Da Old Man) is in Orlando with my step-sister's (the younger one - not the one I was married to) 3 children having fun. When he does this I take care of his 2 dogs at his house and run the day-to-day affairs of our Local Teamster Union.
Seems simple enough, 2 dogs at his house and 100 dogs in 2 different workplaces. Ha...fat chance o' dat. These are 2 dogs with "special" diets and 100 dogs with "special" needs.
The Union is somewhat unusual in that the Union provides the help. Read this as we do all the hiring for the changing workload in a newspaper. 46 of them know which 5 days they normally work, another 36 have their workweek given to them each Friday. Some weeks, there is enough for most of the 36 to get 5 shifts...some weeks, there is so much work to be done all 82 have the opportunity to work more. This was one of those weeks...then...we had more work added.
So, all week I've been struggling to make sure there are enough people at the paper to make sure that it gets done and had the threat of additional work hanging over my head. Then today...threat pans out and I need more people for the next 2 days which spans 3 shifts.
Why am I bitching about it? Try my day's schedule...
6am alarm goes off at Da Old Man's house.
I get up, let the dogs out, spend 5 minutes prepping their dishes for the morning meal, let them in so they can eat, let them back out and finally bring them in and leave for Castello Cipolla.
6:30am I'm at Castello Cipolla feeding Tweeks (my 14 yrold Husky).
I check emails while the coffee brews. I pour coffee and remember that tonight is Demo at RPI and start looking at weapons and armor I don't have in the car yet. I choose what is going and pour more coffee.
7:30am and I'm in the shower and getting ready.
8am out the door back to Da Old Man's house to let the doggies back out before I head to work.
8:30am on the road to Professor Java's for my morning Mocha.
9am entering workplace and learning that I need 10 men for Friday day, 5 men for Friday night and 10 men for Saturday day. I tell Superintendent (management representative in mailroom) there isn't any straight time help left, and these 25 shifts are all overtime. He says...I wasn't gong to say anything, but why the overtime on Sunday night lately? Eyebrow (yes, just one) goes up and I reply...Well, I have 9 men on vacation and we already have 20 shifts of overtime scheduled before the week starts and then I have 2 men call in 2 hours before the shift and I've already heard that we may, or may not, need 20-30 men at the end of the week. I need 11-12 men to run that shift and I have no straight time help left. He replies...Oh, ok.
Yep, he's been clueless for 30 years that I can recall...It ain't changing now.
9:30am I'm alone running a piece of equipment designed for 3 men to run trying to wrap my brain around the 25 men I need for the next day and unable to do anything about it because I have just enough men to run the current shift.
10am There's newspapers (the stuff for Sunday) everywhere and the machine isn't running because the machine was originally designed to handle Chicken and Milk Crates, not newspapers. 11 years we've been using these things. They work pretty good and are much better than piling bundles of newspapers by hand. Sometimes though...you really want to take a sledge hammer to them.
11am That part is done and now I need to train someone to handle the program that does all of the basic logistics of the daily newspaper production. It also creates the files that load into the controllers of the other equipment we use. Good thing he's computer literate.
12pm I have 3 lists in front of me, one is the week's extra hires (those 36 guys workweeks), next is which of them hasn't worked an extra shift yet and what they are working for the remainder of the week, last is the list of phone numbers. Meanwhile, I'm sitting next to a phone talking to Da Old Man while I walk Krowbar (nickname of the guy I'm training) through the arcane steps of preparing tonight's newspaper. Da Old Man is bitching because he hired 2 men for last night from The Magic Kingdom. Yep, I ignored the call from the night foreman. I figured they could get by...he called Da Old Man instead.
12:30pm More Mocha. Lunch break.
1pm I have 7 of 25 hired and Krowbar is trying to remember what he's doing through his "Lunchtime Fog". I still find it amazing that I have to cajole people to earn $330 for 6 hours of their time.
2pm I have 12 of 25 hired and Krowbar has finally muddled through the remainder of the process.
3pm I'm going over the hires I've made and the production schedule for the 3 shifts I'm worrying about with the floor supervisor.
3:30pm I'm out of work and on my way to Da Old Man's house to feed the dogs.
4pm Phone call while pulling up to Da Old Man's house. Phew, 13 hired.
4:30pm I started writing this.
From here forward...it's pure conjecture.
6pm I fight. Wulfstan the Unshod and hopefully a few others in the midst of thunderstorms.
8pm Back home for a post-fight shower.
8:30pm Back to Da Old Man's house to let the dogs out.
9pm Back to work to hire at least 4 more men for Friday day.
12am Hopefully back to Da Old Man's house to get some sleep.
6am It all starts over and I have to hire for next week and keep in mind that Monday is a holiday. Yep, I have to finish the original 25, then I can get around to hiring 200+ between 36 men for the following week.
I will be glad when Saturday rolls around and I pick up Da Old Man at the airport. 48 hours and I'm counting them down.
Current Mood: busy 
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