Tuesday, May 12, 2020

Slow To Start ... Hasn't Gone Unnoticed

Oh yeah, I should talk about this now.

I had a sneaking suspicion someone would bring it up, but it finally happened a few weeks ago.  One of my bosses e-mailed me a reminder that I was supposed to start on time, even (or especially) with these cut hours.  I had to be punched in at a certain time plus or minus "x" minutes from my start time, and then I am supposed to be in a position to work shortly thereafter.

That is the expectation during normal hours, and I have a problem meeting that.  But the combination of the pandemic and the economic fallout from the pandemic have made "being ready to work at the appointed time" all but impossible.  Here are some of the reasons why.

We are now being screened at work; it's just a few questions about how we are feeling.  We are then checked off and given a mask.  However, we are now required to go through a certain door in order to meet up with our supervisor.  For me, this particular door is front-facing.  We have lot parking, but nearly all the spaces out front are taken.  Actually, nearly all of the ones in the back are taken, too, but the nearest one to this door is in the back.  So, I have to park and walk all the way to the front in order to get to the door I have to go through now.

Moreover, even though we are told to punch in not too soon nor too far from our start time, we are not allowed into the building until five minutes before our start time.  So picture this: I have to find parking, stop the car, get all my stuff, walk around to the front and report to my supervisor (or the supervisor manning that particular door), but not too late, but not too early, either.  Pain in the ass.

I still get food that I have to take from home.  Don't need food since I'm working only four hours and I often get fast food, but I need to keep the peace at home or I'll be thrown out.  I need to walk to the work fridge and toss that in there.  That takes time.

And then I get coffee.  Not just anywhere, oh no.  We have two breakrooms.  One of them has this special coffeemaker whereby once you bring up a cup of coffee, this machine grinds beans in order to make a brewed cup for you.  It's much better than the other one, which is just coffee sitting in thermoses.  Totally makes a difference.  Anyway, this is something that I know I cannot do on company time.  So I punch in after I get this coffee (and get creamer too, that's so important).  And I usually am a few, if not several, minutes after my start time when I punch in.  (Getting coffee usually is not an issue, but under a "normal" day I would get it for morning break, when I have time to leisurely get coffee, not when I'm in a rush to show that I'm at work when I'm supposed to be at work.  And even though I still get one break these days, I need my coffee to start the day, so I will not wait till my break, nosiree.)

So, you can tell all the obstacles in my way to get to my desk on time, right?  (OK, I sometimes get drive-thru at McDonald's in the morning before work, and I usually don't get up early enough whereby I don't rush to work.  I admit that I make it easier on myself when I don't get Mickey D's, but I'll call that another obstacle.)  The trouble doesn't stop there; I may be finally punched in, but now the perception that I'm not working kicks in.  You see, stopping the spread of the virus has called for now cleaning protocols at work.  We are now supposed to clean our desk at the beginning and the end of our shift with disinfectant wipes and/or bottles of sanitizer.  Totally understand that, and I agree with that protocol because of the advanced age of my parents.  But I am thorough.  Very thorough -- I wipe down the desk and the keyboard and the mouse and the scanner and the desk height not and the handles of my chair and the monitor and the pens and, even, my personal items like my phone and badge and keys and glasses.  Hey, this fucking virus is a killer.

Oh, and did I mention that I need to log into my computer ... and then bring up all the software I need to work, many of which are veeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeery slooooooooooooooooow... and, well, I need to get out my satellite radio and attach all the wires together, and then take out my headphones because hey, I can't get through a day without listening to something.  And then there's the radio for once Stephanie Miller ends.  And because my hands are so darn sticky from the wipes/sanitizer, I just have to wash my hands; hey, you're supposed to wash your hands when you enter a building anyway, amirite?  Finally, I'm ready!  And, uh, I'm about ten or fifteen minutes late.  So that's all that e-mail is complaining about.

My actual boss (the one who controls my performance review and my pay) followed up, thankfully, with a more detailed discussion where he allowed me to explain my plight.  He understood that when I was cleaning my desk I was following company protocol, he understood that I needed to be fastidious in this cleaning because of my parents, and he believed me when I said I get coffee before I clock in.  So I gave a little and have compromised: I will boot up my computer before I start cleaning, and I will use sanitizer for my hands instead of going to the bathroom to wash them.  Everything else I guess I have to try and hurry up.

It's not helping too much.  Since that talk, which was more than a week ago, I was able to cut my time down so that I'm ready to start keying at, uh, ten minutes after my start time.  That's ... progress?  Good enough?  I don't know.  What I do know is that I haven't heard any flak from either my authority figures or supervisor or co-workers, so if there is any talk that I'm slacking, well, I can say that no one told me.

I'll be able to tolerate starting my day like this -- rushing to work, walking all the way down to the breakroom and back, cleaning like the dickens, boosting the feng shui of my desk and waiting for my computer to start -- by looking a tad tardy to begin work until, well, someone else complains.

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