Testing a theory

Since I stopped working fulltime I have taken an interest in astrophysics. Just thought I'd share a presentation I did lately :).

Exit work

So I resigned after two weeks of delivering mail. The reason was not that I didn't like the work, I did, fresh air, movement and the work appealed to me. Everything neatly in order, and only myself to rely on getting the job done.

However, working for free for a private company is not for me. Six hours of my time invested, and minimum wage for two and a half. Not my cup of tea.

It is possible that I could've learned to sort all the piles a bit quicker with time, but still, to do it properly so that you don't have to go back to an address with an item you sorted incorrectly, takes time. And I don't think anybody, except for maybe an athlete, could drag around 70-80 kg's in one round. Besides, the wagon was too small to take all the mail. When I stuffed the two bags, there were still six piles that didn't fit.

However, I offered the manager to come to my place and show me how it's done in the time allotted, saying that if she could do it I could learn, and guess what? No reply, even though she claimed she had done the round herself. Ha! Well, good luck with finding a loser who wants to work for free.

Many heavy things

Oh dear. Tomorrow another batch of catalogues and letters will arrive for me to sort. And the company has upped their game, increasing the documents from 229 last week to 336 this week, and from 49.6 kg to 68.7 kg. To this has to be added the weight of the boxes and the trolley. Not even sure I can make that in two rounds. More than 40 kg's per round. Ouch!

So first I shall exactly measure how many minutes it takes to sort, then I will very accurately measure how long it takes to deliver and communicate that to the company. If they are not willing to pay for the time I work, I shall say goodbye.

Charity work

Woke up really early today, eager to get going with my new job. Had a friend over yesterday, who convinced me to it in two rounds, it was far too heavy to not only drag around but also to get down and up the stairs in the tunnel. Smart advice. No point in risking ones life, tilting the wagon and get it on top of me.

So off I went with about 35 kg's worth of catalogues and mail. And it went kinda fine. I knew the round, but I hadn't checked out the mailboxes (why would I?). So at every stop it was digging into the box on the wagon, finding the mail for that particular address and deliver. In the middle of the piles I found mail not in my address list, which means I have to send it back.

Came back two hours and 15 min later. Had a break and then went off again with the rest. The second round started out a bit bad. The wagon tilted in the stairs, and mail started to pour out (hadn't secured it enough). Fortunately it was only ten or so. The rest of the round went fine. A couple of them couldn't be delivered, 'cause nobody with that name didn't live at the stated address. Those also have to be sent back. Second round took two hours and 25 minutes.

The problem is that it takes me about 15 min to get to the starting point, and then 15 min back. Plus the fact that the round is impossible to make in the stated time.

I get all in all paid for 2.5 hours incl sorting. Yesterday I spent about 1.5 hours sorting, which I probably could get down to quite a bit under an hour, now that I have a methodology that works. Everything was immaculately sorted! I was proud of myself.

But then the rounds together makes 4 hours and 40 minutes, say altogether 6 hours spent, and I get paid for 2.5 hours. Plus I have to code the mail to send back and post it. Do I feel used? Absolutely. Who wants to work for free when it's not for a good cause?

I shall now wait to see if the company asks for my feedback, and then take the opportunity to discuss the pay with them. Otherwise, you know what'll happen.

Ordnung muss sein

So this morning at dawn the delivery arrived. All the equipment, catalogues and stuff I am to deliver tomorrow and/or on Friday. It was a tad more than I had expected actually, and quite overwhelming.

However, I am a person who likes to put things in order so I started using the methodology the teacher told us yesterday. That went down the drain immediately, when I realized that we yesterday sorted only a few piles.

After a quick smoking break I went on it again, sorting into piles. Every delivery has a number, where the three last ones indicates where it comes on your round. So I made 13 piles, one from 1-10, 11-20 and so forth up to 127. Then I sorted each individual pile so that everything comes in order. I found two in the wrong place, who knows how many I'll find tomorrow? Which means I will then have to go back and lose time.

Then came the task of putting it into the boxes I got in an order that makes sense.

And yes I know you're not supposed to put it on the floor (maybe other people have dirty floors?), but 90% of it were in plastic and I don't have a table big enough.

And I gotta admit, that trolley is heavy like a person, which it indeed is if you weigh 62 kg's. There is no way I can get that thingie down the stairs and up again in the tunnel to get to my starting point. So I either have to make a longer round, schlepping that trolley after me, or make it in two rounds.

This company certainly makes you work for the (little) money. I have a totally newfound respect for postmen. On the other hand, they usually have a vehicle.

A new profession

Today I've been educated to a new profession. It took 2.5 hours. I guess that's why they pay minimum wage :).

However, it wasn't as easy as I first thought. I mean the job is simple enough, but there is a ginourmous apparatus of logistics behind it all.

Tomorrow there shall be a delivery to my house. A wagon with boxes, a bag, the material to be sorted and delivered, some paperwork and a GPS. Talk about being watched by big brother. The GPS has to follow on every round, so that they can see exactly where you go and how fast ("but if you wanna stop for a beer we don't care". This is where I remarked that the rules say no alcohol :), which brought a few laughs). It then gets transported into an extremely detailed xl-sheet, and each deliverer is monitored and graded, where A is best.

Several people had questions on pay, not me, I know it's next to nothing, but it turned out to be an very intricate matrix with weight, number of packages, hourly pay based on the route and the number of mails that cannot be delivered for one reason or another. Everything is calculated down to the second.

Anyway, every Monday I will get an sms with the number of packages and the weight to be delivered on Wednesday. Then I have Thursday and Friday to do the job.

This week I shall sort 229 mails/catalogues which together weigh 49.6 kg's. That sounds doable in one round. I actually look forward.

Slavery

I take work seriously. Any work. So today I tried out my route as a postwoman, or delivery agent is probably a better word. I was sent a very specific list with addresses, and you walk a route that makes sense.

It took me 15 minutes to walk to the starting point, 50 minutes to walk the round without any mail to deliver and without stopping at mailboxes, then 15 minutes back. And I walked pretty fast.

It didn't start out well, the first building was a renovation object with no people in it, and no mailboxes. Then I discovered that some houses do not have mailboxes outside the house, but inside, which means you have to bother people and ring somebody's door to get in. Ouch! And considering the number of mail to be delivered in the same area, I have a feeling it's mail that not everybody has ordered, but the kinda stuff I get sometimes. Promotional catalogues and newspapers and who knows what. Exactly what I didn't want to participate in. Hmm.

And they pay absolute minimum wage. I will get paid for 2.5 hours and that includes not only walking and delivering, but also sorting. Not sure this'll be worth my time, but since I signed up, I'll give it a go.

The postwoman never rings

Talking about profession, I am about to change mine. But don't get too excited. We're talking about a couple of hours a week.

I am to become a postwoman! Quite a long time ago a friend knew I was thinking of getting a parttime easy job, and sent me a link to a company that delivers addressed mail. I would never consider just commercial stuff, where you deliver something that is not wanted, but this appealed to me. However, at the time they didn't have anything for me, so I gave up the thought, until I got called today.

So I will get catalogues and mail delivered to my address. I will then sort it, and deliver it in my 'hood. This is supposed to take 2.5 hours, which is what I get paid pittance for. However, I am pretty certain it will take quite a bit longer, especially in the beginning before I know the route. Also, I'll be doing it by foot and I know that some of the addresses are already 20 min's walk away.

Nevertheless, I look fw to it. It'll give me a chance to exercise and at the same time earn cig money :).

Good news

When I work I like to be busy. There is nothing worse than being bored, not having enough to do. There were times in my working life when I experienced that, however strange it might sound. Some people complain all the time that they have too much to do, but seriously, when I watched them they seemed less than busy. And even it they did long days in the office, it seemed to be a lot of facetime.

Anyway, I was working today again in the old peoples cafe, and even though there were only seven customers the whole afternoon, it certainly wasn't boring. I was talking to the regulars, one is a 101-year-old with all her brain cells still active. She is the only one who remembers to switch to high German when speaking to me. Otherwise it's "öppis", "alytte", "schaffe" and I dunno what. I get to practise my smile a lot when there, not wanting to always remind them that high German is my preferred language (that sounds funny!).

One of the other oldies (who looks older but is about twenty years younger) asked how she became so old. The answer was surprising. With hot tea and rum. Turns out she had a lot of colds when she was a child and the cure back then was just hot tea and rum. Very good news indeed. Plus the fact that her family had a small wine field, and they made their own white wine. Even better!

The two oldies I've gotten a bit closer too than the others, are really very sweet, and very openminded despite their age. Tolerant, open to new things, and worried about the state of the world. It's quite daunting to think about that they grew up when there was no electricity and no running water.

Flee market

I was working today in the old peoples home, and last week I was alone, normally we are two. Not a problem. I served the 19 guests without being stressed.

However, today it was something different. It was a flee market in the home. Great I thought when walking in seeing this antique player at the entrance, and the oldies moving and smiling.

But nobody had told the two of us working there. Me and a nearly 90-year-old who is living in the home but is still fit and clear in the head.

We had nearly 60 guests in two hours, and several ordering more than once. The problem wasn't the serving, it was that we didn't have the equipment for it. The saucers, the cups, the sugar, the milk, everything was running out and we had to run into the kitchen and the other bigger cafeteria (closed on Saturdays) to fill up. And a small coffee machine that takes at least a minute to make one cup of java. Two of us serving, two hours, 60 guests. And none of them were patient, they were standing at the bar giving us orders left, right and center.

Nevertheless, I loved it. I'd much rather have stress and being busy, than standing there waiting for guests and being bored. But I do tell you, I have written an email to the manager to say, please next time give us some warning. Forewarned is forearmed.

Ole people rock

I was again serving coffee and cookies in the old peoples home today. I still enjoy it very much, they are sweet and talkative, even though I only understand half of what they say when speaking Swiss German.

And today I was on my own for the first time, normally we are two. Nineteen customers in two hours. This sounds not too much, and it isn't, but most of them arrive at the same time. However, all are very friendly, and I now know who needs what help and what they want most of the time.

One needs a half coffee and half milk in a tee glass, since his hands are shaking too much to hold a normal cup, another one wants one deciliter of rose wine in a bigger glass for the same reason. One wants a "gucki", i.e. a Coke with lemon, another one wants a glass of lukewarm water.

A new one today wanted a bottle of beer "but not cold". Ok, had to go into the kitchen and ask the guys there if there was a bottle that wasn't chilled. We were all laughing a bit, 'cause who wants warm beer? But I can understand. Well I guess, it's because of false teeth or something, that makes you not want to drink anything too cool.

Nevertheless, I do enjoy it and especially when the people there start to recognize me and greet me, worrying about me working alone and how can I cope? The fact that few of them remember my name is something I can live with, 'cause I don't know their names either.

Candles

Today I did something I have never done before. Candles. The oldfashioned way. It was a bit cold, since we were outdoors, but social and fun. There were live music and punch, so I kinda forgot my fingers were freezing. And there were Finnish candles as well to warm up at.

You start with dipping a wick into 75°C wax for about 5 seconds, then wait until it cools down a bit, then dip it again in an in-and-out-motion, then cool it off, and keep on going until you have a decent size candle. For a bigger one it takes half an hour.

It was done at the old peoples home, and one lady was really hilarious. And somewhat dement I should think. She kept on forgetting to take the candle out of the wax, but finally learned to count to 20 before she put it in again. But the funny thing was she kept on counting quicker and quicker, and so her candle ended up looking like a baby carrot (yes, orange).

And I came home with three smaller candles, that I plan to put into my winestand...and somehow they all ended up purply :).

Postergirl

I was working again today in my coffee bar, and was happy to see a new sign put up. It corresponds very much more with who I'm associating myself with, than just serving coffee and cookies.

What I didn't know was that they took a pic of me for the poster!

Short skirt

I got a good talking to today. Was strolling into my work, when a woman (resident) approached me, saying in no uncertain terms that my dress was far too short. And those things women can wear in Sweden and other open countries, but it's not appropriate in Switzerland. Because of the Muslim men. Eh?

She continued to tell me that when she was in Sweden she was encouraged to take off all her clothes on the beach, "feel free, nobody here has a problem with it", and she was appalled. "So I know everything about Sweden and the countries up north". I refrained from telling her that not all of the people are like that. Why rain on her parade?

And then I got a rant about Muslim men who apparently are attracted to short skirts (like other men aren't?), and that I needed to be careful, and how she didn't approve of the Burkhas and such.

So I tried with "but perhaps I can feel safe here in the old peoples home?". That joke fell flat to the ground. Sense of humour is definitely not her thing. But in the end I got her to agree that maybe somewhere in the middle would be good. And I reminded her that today is Street parade, which generated another rant about how young women nowadays walk around with belts doubling as skirts.

I happen to know this woman briefly from like a month ago, when she had just moved into the home. She was angry back then too, complaining about anything and everything, and since I knew that, I can kinda understand her. It cannot be funny to still be sorta clear in the head, physically seemingly healthy and be put in a place with other oldies, more dement and dilapidated than her.

So better she gets her anger out at me, than to the others living there. And I'm gonna charm her, putting a long skirt or pants on next time I work. If I can find something that still fits!

PS. I told my co-worker who is like 88 (and lives in the home but is still going strong) about the short-skirt-palaver, and she just laughed. "Oh that one, she's always complaining".

PPS. I have pants under the short skirt, that goes down a third of my thigh. And I have good-looking legs. Nothing inappropriate or indecent if you ask me.

99 and still going strong

The last few times I was working in the old peoples home, there have been few customers. Today one of the regulars came on her own, explaining that many of the other women that used to join her had gotten dement or moved on to other homes, where more care is required.

I asked her how long she had been living there, and she said nine years, "but I wasn't exactly young when I moved in, I was 90". What? 99 years old and cristal clear in her head. Looking good too.

Next time I'll ask her how one does that. Get to 99 and still going strong.

Live longer with alcohol

I really like those oldies in the home. Today was very quiet with few customers, so I went for a ciggie and found two of the old ladies sitting outdoors enjoying the sun. One of them remarked that she was considering starting smoking. She thought it must be good, since so many people do it. Ha, clever woman.

Another guy who usually orders wine wanted a rum punch today. That's some powder mixed with water and is alcohol free. I was surprised. Until I saw him digging out a pocket flask, topping his drink off. The guy is 98 and drinks alcohol with every meal!

That is very good news.

Oldies still going strong

I was volunteer-working again today, and these oldies make me laugh in so many ways.

First of all, I'm astonished about how much they still care about their appearance, much much more than I do, but ok, that doesn't say much.

Second, they still have lots to talk about even though they probably see each other more or less daily. Every time there is a row of ladies sitting there, today joined by one (!) man, poor guy. I think there were nine women. Living proof that women live longer than men.

Third, today they were singing, wanting music, but complaining that their voices get worse with age. Heck, they sounded better than I do when trying to sing. Which for that good reason I try to avoid.

I don't even get frustrated when they forget. And they do forget pretty often. They place an order for coffee with cake, and when we deliver they have changed their order to only tea. And today one lady brought her own tea bag, saying she pays only two francs instead of three because of that. Fine, we're not exactly there to make money.

They forget if they have paid or not, and surprisingly enough they always tip. Not a lot, but still. One would think that older people have less money.

Yes, they are real darlings even if I don't always understand what they say, speaking Switzedütch and all. But the sweetest of them all and today a helper in the kitchen, the famous Mr Müller.

Cafe co-worker

Yes, it is a fast lane to get promoted from assistant to co-worker in my new business career. If I'm not careful I might be manager soon!

Today I got there early, 'cause I wanted to prepare everything myself to see if I remembered the stuff I was taught, and since my co-worker was late, I had the time to do just that.

It went fine, even though we had very few customers today. Maybe because the weather was fantastic, 21° and sunshine. But I worked with a woman who was nice and interesting, and we had a good conversation while waiting on existing customers and waiting for new ones.

And I have now properly learned which mugs are used for Ovomaltine and which ones for tea. Progress my friends.

Herr Müller

Haha, I just remembered today at the old peoples home. They have two cats. One of them is called Herr Müller, which is a funny name for a cat.

So when I was serving two older gentlemen, I said, "see, there is Mr Müller joining us", and they looked at me in a funny way. Then one of them said "I'm Mr Müller". Ah ok. Pregnant pause, and then we laughed.

Herr Müller turned out to be a panther, a big black gentle cat, who liked to be cuddled with.

Cafe assistant

So today I began my new career, as a cafe assistant in an old peoples home. It was very interesting, with a lot of new impressions.

First I was introduced to the two others, where one was the obvious manager. She talked, guided me around, grabbed me by my arm to come with her and being bossy as few. But charming! When she told me she was 87 I nearly fell off my chair! I believe she had more energy than I.

Haha, to think that an 87-year-old is still working, and in an old peoples home where many are younger than her, is fabulous. And when she was sitting down, while I and the other one were working, she was knitting and told me she did it for needy people. Knitting, knitting, talking, talking, she was really a multi-tasking person. And 87 years old! I was impressed. But she was confessing to me that she's thinking of retiring soon. Yeah!

The work consisted of tending to a cafeteria with about eight tables indoors and a few outdoors, and with a limited menu. Coffee, tee, various soft drinks, beer and wine. Cake. The most ordered one was Ovomaltine, which is an E-nr chocolate powder drink mixed with hot milk. Hot milk we didn't have, so the alternative was with hot water only. One woman tried to order with hot milk three times, she had forgotten she tried before. So I smiled and each time explained to her that we didn't have hot milk. Was told somebody had decided that hot milk was off the menu. Why, I have no clue.

Another popular order was "Schale" or perhaps "Scharle", not sure. Apparently that is coffee with hot milk, and again, no milk, so we had to sell in normal coffee with those little plastic thingies containing something milk-like.

The coffee machine was a George Clooney-one with wee containers put in a machine. It doesn't smell like coffee, not like beans being grounded like my own machine at home. These small coffee containers come in different colours, but none of us in the service knew the difference between them and to be honest, I don't think anybody cared.

The machine took forever to produce one cup. But we did serve the coffee with both sugar and some sugar-like substitute, as well as "milk" and a tiny piece of chocolate. And for a very reasonable price.

It was actually more busy than I thought. Many of the people had visitors, and those came with so I must admit I was kept on my toes, trying to remember the orders ("one espresso, water in a glass on the side, one coffee with extra milk" and so forth). We were serving at the tables, and also clearing them off.

On the alcohol-side we had two orders today. One visitor wanted a beer, and one of the oldest-looking men ordered 1 dl of rose wine. I think I might have poored 1,5 for him :), glad to see that somebody still enjoyed a glass of something alcoholic.

And all of them gave a tip! Not that I will get any of that, but it's nice to feel appreciated.

At times it felt like being out in a pub, it was buzzing and everybody was talking seemingly enjoying themselves. All the while their walking gizmos were parked outside.

I really had a great time! And the 87-year-old dragged me into the toilet to get away from the people, showing me the grades she gave me ("but don't tell anyone I told you"). Top of the class my friends :), she even added adjectives. Ok, I was the only pupil but still.

Now I'm waiting for the official feedback, but I do expect I have qualified. This'll be fun!