I work for a major DIY chain in the UK. I used to be a kitchen designer. I like to think I still am…
Alarm set for 6:30 but awake by 6.
Mug of tea and bowl of cereal in bed, then into the shower. Put soup (Rubber Chicken Day 4) into a flask for lunch. Feed the cat, open the curtains.
At work for 8am. The journey only takes 10 minutes these days – it used to take at least 15, and on one memorable occasion took 35.
Because we sell items that people need in order to keep their homes safe and secure, we’re counted as key workers. The store is closed, but you can order online and come to collect it – we bring the orders out to your car, contact-free.
I spent the first part of the day picking stock for orders. There’s a box of pick lists – take one, quick glance to see what they want, and decide if it needs a basket, a trolley, or a pallet. Then go pick it.
Once it’s picked, label the basket, or trolley, or pallet, put the pick list in another box – and go get another pick list. And so on. Just keep plugging away at it. We can only do what we can do, and we won’t be doing anyone any favours if we knacker ourselves completely. And the orders just keep coming.
At lunchtime I swapped to working outside – going to people’s cars to ask for their name and order number (from a safe distance). It’s amazing how many people are surprised to be asked for an order number… We then find the original pick list – by this time filed in another box, find the basket, or trolley, or pallet (which should be all ready and waiting, in alphabetical order of surname) and take it out to the customer. Hopefully they stay in their car until we’ve left the basket, or trolley or pallet. Sometimes they try to be too helpful, shall we say.
Then the pick list goes into yet another box. And we go to the next car. And so on.
In the meantime, there are people walking up to the store expecting it to be open. I find this really bizarre. FFS, the entire world is closed – why would you expect this particular store to be open?? And when I tell you it’s closed, why do you look at me as though I’m the one that’s got it wrong?
Finished work at 2:30pm, and home. Grabbed a second lunch (shifting bags of plaster is hungry work) and let myself have a snooze on the sofa. I really do seem to get my best sleeps there.
In the afternoon I did a bit of work for the business I run with my ex. Doesn’t everyone run a business with their ex? No? Just me?
I went out at 8 o’clock to clap – it’s the first time I’ve done it. The first week, I basically forgot, and the second time – I was working. I found it quite uplifting. And it was nice to see all the neighbours!!
In to bed just after 10, ready to do it all over again tomorrow. I dreamt that I couldn’t find the right box to put the pick list in…
Stay home. Stay safe. This isn’t forever. We can do this.
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