[All Systems Go]

Ladies and gentlemen I would like to announce that I am now officially a member of the proletariat. As if being unemployed for the best part of the year wasn't enough, I now work on a production line sorting rubbish!

to commemorate this momentous occasion allow me to regale you with a tale about my first day as a member of the Underclass.

We begin around 3pm, yesterday afternoon when I recieved a phonecall from the job centre asking if I would be interested in a job in a recyling factory. Being willing to take any job I agreed for my CV to be sent to them so they can take a look.

I thought no more of it, as I didn't believe anything would come of it. But low and behold(!) I recieved a phonecall around 8:30pm (the 2nd phonecall to interrupt the football) and I was given the details.

It was minimum wage and the hours were 6am-2:30pm and 2:30pm-11pm. I was to work shifts of unusual hours. the joy, as I felt the indignation of being exploited by the greedy capitalist factory ownerwas rather unique.

He asked if I could start the next day. Not wishing to displease my new lord and master I agreed and it was arranged that I should be at the facility at 5:45am. this was a shock to the system and I had no idea how I was vo manage such a feat. I am used to living a certain lifestyle, getting up before 10am is not common so this was a challenge. So natuarally my first course of action was to forget about it.

And I did forget about it (trauma induced amnesia) until about 11:45pm. I decided to work out what time I should get up to be there on time. I set aside 30 minutes to wake up, have breakfast etc (normal things other people could do in 2 minutes it takes me at least 10 in the morning. I can just zone out in the mirror whilst cleaning my teeth for a weird amount of time) and 30 minutes to get there on time as I wasn't 100% sure where it was. I decided to get up at 4:45am. In (what I presume is) the the morning! I decided to go to bed immediatly to get as close to 5 hours sleep as possible, which went to hell as I was still awake at 1:15am. Nevertheless the morning came and m alarm went of an to my surprise I had no trouble getting up, I toyed with the idea of having an extra 10 minutes kip but didn't want to wreck the momentum that was gathering.

I left the house at 5:25am (10 minutes behind schedule) after making and eating beans on toast, cleaning my teeth and getting dressed in tracksuit trousers and a t-shirt. that took me 40 minutes, which was a good thing as the place is only 10 minutes from where I live so I would have been waiting for ages otherwise.

I got there 10 minutes earl and waited in the car for a bit before going in to see the boss. I was informed that he would be there shortly by some guy in a chair who didn't really seem to do or know anything. Standing for 10 minutes was irritating as I figured I would be spending the next 8 hours or so standing so I didn't want to waste any unnecessary leg energy. But then these capitalists do love a display of power and contempt for the working man.

I was given a reflective jacket and boots (I own only trainers and one pair of interview shoes) and was informed that I didn't need goggles as I wear glasses (a premise I reject in the same way that a jumper is not the same as a bullet-proof vest) and I was handed to the foreman and shown to my post.

At this point I didn't know what I was to do and I was still weary about the possibility of having to wade knee-deep in rubbish (which is why I brought a spare pair of socks). I was pleased to be placed at a place by a conveyer belt after the obligitory safety rules (don't do under, on or over the conveyer belt, basically don't do anythign stupid) and was given my intructions for the day. I was to pick up plastic things (bottles, food wrappers, bits of old toys etc) and drop them in a specific chute. I was all very easy and I felt up to doing something different after a long period of inactivity.

So the day went along and I found this tedious task not to be as painfully boring (or repellent) as you might expect, yes it was rather dirty and there were some pretty bad smells but on the whole, it was something to do. I think my attitude to the job was partially influenced by my youth and seeing games where you had to rummage through gunge and other assorted buildups to collect tokens and win prizes, Fun House springs to mind.

Everyone there seemed nice enough. there was a bit of banter and even a short game of ping pong with a couple of bats and a ball off the belt and everything was going well.

the most unexpected (though not realy unpredictable) event occured about 11am when a number of yells and jumps flew down the corridor Mexican Wave style to the end of the belt (i.e. me) where I repeated the actions of the other men (partly out of natural reactions and partly with wanting to fit in). there was a mouse scurrying down the belt and ran straight over the edge and down the chute where the unsorted filth goes. With that bit of excitment over we all returned to work.

All day I had a problem with my chute filling up and having to force it all down with a broom or a bin (by the end I couldn't push it down so left it for the next shift to sort out). It was partly becuase of first-day onvelities and the fact that that particular area wasn't being cleared throughout the day by whomever does that.

Dinner consisted of sausage and chips as I fogot my packed lunch that morning. then we went back to work. It was at this point that we had mouse alert No.2. this time, instead of letving it fall down the chute like the first mouse (which may have been this mouse for a second time) they decided to kill it with a broom. this idea was genius except for the nature of the device. All they managed to do was brush the mouse off the table and onto the floor upon which scene there was an almighty rumble through the room as if it was relased into an elephant sancuary. the mouse had landed on the floor and run out of the door (possibly to its inevitable death by jumping of the steps) and was not seen again.

All then was quiet and I returned to my trance like state brought on once again by Edith Bowman and childhood memories, until the end of the day. I went to see the boss and asked how how I found the work and if I wanted to come back tomorrow. I said I did and surly I shall return! tomorrow I shall arise at 5am to be in work by 6am and even though it's only been one day and I spent all day handling rubbish and I shall need a serious bath after every shift, I do like the job a surprising amount.

And the moral of the story is, if you read all of that you may need psychiatric help.