Around the water cooler
Today is one of those days I am positively ecstatic that I no longer work.
Their tedious restrictions have been eased and people are allowed to return to the office after fifteen [or is it sixteen, or eighteen?] months of working from home.
First of all there is the problem of commuting. So far as I know there are still some restrictions on public transport so buses and trains will be full before they even reach your stop. Good luck with that. And if you are driving, roads will be chaotic as people have lost the rhythm of the regular commute.
Assuming everyone eventually arrives at the workplace, the fun really begins.
Is everyone vaccinated? The boss can’t ask as it is deemed illegal. Rumour will therefore spread like wildfire throughout the office that Brian in the corner over there is an anti-vaxxer. This may be true but more likely isn’t. Truth doesn’t matter though and poor Brian will be shunned to within an inch of his life. There will be frantic displaying of smart phones assuring each other that they are “safe”.
Then there is the small talk. Everyone will have to recount in great graphic details all the terrible horrors they endured during the lockdown. There will be stories of visiting Granny in the old folks’ home and how she died roaring and alone. There will be babies born where the mother hadn’t even been pregnant at the start of the Pandanic. There will be “funny” stories about the chaos some Zoom call caused when the recipient wasn’t dressed in time.
Of course restrictions still state everyone has to wear a face nappy and anti-socially distance and they will all probably be separated by plastic screens so they’ll all have to shout. There will be no peace and quiet in the office.
The face nappies of course will lead to problems. At that meeting where you are all “socially distancing” around the table, how can you judge other’s reactions? Is the Boss leering, laughing or about to explode in a fireball of wrath? Only the eyes can tell. Someone will doubtless suggest removing all face coverings at which point half will leave the table in blind panic.
At least the men needn’t bother shaving in the morning. My bet is that a lot will have grown beards which they will be anxious [ or too embarrassed] to display. That probably goes for a few women too.
Yes. I shall sit here in my mountain-side retreat and revel in the joys of retirement.
Who needs work anyway?
“Who needs work anyway?”
Indeed. I must confess that I’m sort of looking forward to being fired for my refusal to submit to the jab. I might be impoverished, but at least I won’t have to put up with the bullshit I’m surrounded with Every. Single. Day.
Glad y’all got the fuel oil tank situation rectified. Amazing how fast those nest eggs can shrink…
The one thing I learned after retirement was just how much I could save by staying at home. When you add up the coast of commuting and all the items such as coffe breaks and lunch, it transpires that work is quite an expensive hobby. Add to that the joy of being your own master, using your time wisely and avoiding all the hassle and tensions that go with work then retirement can actually be an extremely happy time of life.
I don’t have a mountain retreat, but I do have a ridge retreat.
Upon my own retirement Karen and I moved to the high desert country of North Central Oregon to be closer to the grandkids.
Our place is in a cluster of houses that was built for officer and noncom housing for a USAF radar station built in the 50’s and closed in the early 70’s.
Retirement is good and while I don’t miss the work I do miss a lot of the people, (I was there for just shy of 30 years.)
I do miss the chats in the canteen al right. I also miss doing my rounds of the various departments and the banter with all the people in radio and television. Sadly I have outlived a lot of them now anyway. It’s a cruel world sometimes.