bliss-sad's Diaryland Diary


this is fine.

Almost 3 months ago, my place of work hired another manager. It was an odd choice because we're running out of welders and "skilled" manufacturing positions, but whatever. I have the luxury of not justifying those kinds of things anymore--no part of my job is in any way related to HR, so I just kinda gave him the benefit of the doubt. It was a created position, but one that could potentially hold some value so people were *almost* open minded about it. He proved himself to be exceptionally competent, he asked great questions and found the fallacies of our system and process very quickly. Too quickly.

After my last job, I have a sixth sense for how long someone is going to last. I could predict the departure of a new employee within a 2 week range an overwhelming majority of the time. (Maybe I'm an empath, maybe there was a time in my life where it was incredibly important to my survival that I be able to take the emotional temperature of someone really, really fast....who knows?!)

So, like, I knew this dude wasn't going to make it. But I called this one so absurdly wrong. I really thought we had like, 3 more months.

Yesterday, shortly before the morning break, there was some kind of incident where a part wasn't broken right on a plasma table *blah, blah, blah, industry speak, blah* and the next guy in the assembly line, our last competent welder in this department, had a meltdown over it. He called the new manager to his area to show him and proceeded to freak out. (I just want to add that the temper tantrum guy was kind of in the right. This shit happens all the time. It's unhinged.) When it was all over, the new manager came back, sat down at his desk and just kind of brewed in silence for a while.

I walked past him on my way to take a smoke break and jokingly offered him a cigarette and he said, "I think I'm done."

I said, "Yeah....I get it."

He said, "I'm not going to be a punching bag. If people are going to get that frustrated and we're not going to do anything to help them, then I'm not going to take it. I don't need this."

I said, "Yeah, no, I know. I get it."

We wished each other luck. I thanked him for being cool to work with for the brief time he was there. And then I went and had my smoke. When I got back he was gone. At the end of the day they sent out the email that he was no longer with the company.

When a few of the guys were talking about it they emphasized the importance of having thick skin--how you have to be tough to survive here. I laughed, and from my little jungle-cave in the back of the shop office and interrupted, "Clearly I am proof that isn't the case."

One of the guys came over, leaned against my desk and said, "Shit, you're brave enough to cry here. You're tougher than you give yourself credit for."

And I have been pretty goddamn high on that moment ever since. Maybe I'll make it. Maybe I won't. It doesn't matter anyway, really. There are so many jobs out there and they make more every day. And that guy just kind of reminded me that it was possible to just leave--to literally get up and walk away before fucking lunchtime--to toss your keys on the desk and GTFO. I needed that.

I lay awake at night and wonder about gearboxes and explosion proof motors; I think about how if we don't get this one goddamn sheave in the next week then we won't be able to send it with the rest of the overseas load. I try to build bucket elevators and belt conveyors in my head--trying to figure out how the purchased parts fit with the manufactured parts. I spend entire weekends silencing emails and all day Sunday, I'm full of dread.

Sometimes I miss probing trucks and picking up lunch for the production crew.

I think I may have burned that bridge, though. So here I am. Here I stay.

Maybe I'll bring some more plants in.

7:20 a.m. - 06.24.22


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