In the evenings, they gather around in a safe room to cheer “Let’s do our best!” and clap once, before wrapping themselves with blankets and going to sleep on the floor.” —
Everybody cease complaining this instant.(via clembastow)
Today I was complimented on my forklift driving skills by a veteran truckie. I didn’t tell him that up until a couple of weeks ago the last time I’d driven one was almost a decade ago and that it was only my second straight day of unloading tightly-packed grape bins off truck trailers on a 7-tonne forklift with barely a few millimetres of room for error. It’s actually a lot of fun.
Today I was also told that the only real opportunity for a day off for the forseeable future is in the next day or two, and then we’ll be so crazily busy that we simply won’t be able to afford one less person on any given day. So as of next week it looks like indefinite 7-day weeks with 12 hours per day until we get quieter again, which could be up to a month away. Such a schedule does not lend itself much room for making plans or spoiling myself, so I’ve decided to allow myself something simple to look forward to each week. Starting tomorrow, I’ll get up a little earlier every Sunday and go to work via the bakery to grab a brekky pie and a proper coffee. Ah, the simple things.
On a side note; my hands are wrinkled, splitting and covered in cuts due to the prolonged exposure to water, grape juice, corrosives, acids, additives and sharp metal - caustic soda on split skin is a pain unlike anything I’ve felt; my feet are blistered and irritated from spending long days in wet socks; and my legs and lower back are as stiff as boards every morning when I wake up…
But I’m still happy.
I’m not sure if it’s the 12-hour shifts, or the prospect of very few (if any) days off, the sheer mental and physical tiredness of the work, or the fact that I’ve moved far away from my friends and family preparing for the prospect of months (if not years) of travel, but my brain has been kicking into sentimental mode recently.
Past loves, places I grew up, high school, old friends, family moments, university, holidays… you name it, it’s been occupying my thoughts.
It’s not necessarily a bad thing, and in many ways it’s pleasant and reassuring, and I wouldn’t say I’m lonely, but I’m missing a lot of people and places… in a healthy way.
In fact, if you’re reading this, I probably am missing you. Sincerely.
This book helped form my moral outlook on life. It is incredible and should be read by everyone.
I honestly have a legitimate crush on Tony Jones from ABC’s QandA. Anyone who says they don’t is a liar.
Oh tonight? Yeah, I just drank a Rutherglen Muscat older than any of my living relatives… that’s all.