Friday, March 2, 2012

Slip Sliding Away

Yesterday and last night we (around these parts, that is) had a little storm. I was snowing, raining, hailing, just every old thing. In New England, lots of times storms cause a low-level panic (See Tornadoes vs. Nor'easters for more on that), and apparently the Post Office is not immune. We had what is called a Safety Talk yesterday morning, where Management tells us things like 'Ice is slippery!' and 'Falling down stairs hurts!'.

You know. Highfalutin' intelligence of a safety-oriented nature. And stuff.

So yesterday we got the word:

"Use your own discretion. If there's too much snow, and the truck might get stuck, bring the mail back. We can always send it out the next day. If conditions look too icy, on a sidewalk, walkway to a house, and especially stairs, don't even go up there. Don't take the chance of getting hurt. We'd rather have the mail be delayed than have you guys get hurt."

Warms your heart, doesn't it? I know it warmed mine. As a matter-of-fact, it more than warmed it, it was actually hot! Burning! crap, my heart is burning! What the hell did they... oh, wait a minute! Breakfast burrito. My bad. Let me get some Tums. Be right back...

...Okay! Whew! That's better. Okay, where was I? What? Oh, right, right, the 'Safety Talk' about not getting hurt on the ice.

Well, I went in this morning, and as I turned up the driveway to go to the employee lot (which, coincidentally, holds all the mail trucks for the office as well) I saw the custodial staff for the office out in front of the building wielding shovels and sand buckets, making sure the paths to the front door ware clear. The stairs had been handled in quite the professional manner, shoveled, scraped, and from the looks of it blow-dried.

Terrific! I thought. They have a handle on the whole ice and snow thing! My workplace, working hard to keep me safe and whole!

Then I got to the back of the building, where the employees park. It hadn't been handled quite as well as the front of the building.

 Here's a picture of all of us going from our cars to the building to clock in:

And here we are , heading out to check our vehicles after getting on the clock -->

<-- Here are three of my co-workers going out a couple of hours later to load their mail into their trucks.

These are two more of my co-workers. I can't explain what the hell they're doing. I think I left right before someone-->
 called the police

So. As far as I can tell, the whole 'use your own discretion, we don't want you to get hurt' thing only applies while I'm out and about in town. Right there in my own office, though, cracked skulls seem to be encouraged!

Talk to you later!

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