Last year I was curious about how I was performing as a delivery driver. I decided to collect data and measure what I can. I made a spreadsheet and so far some interesting charts.
Next time, I might drill down one level and see if there is a correlation between specific runs and parcel density.
SPOILER ALERT
If you haven't seen the movie and don't want spoilers, stop now.
Come back after.
We'll be right here waiting.
Okay, so either you've seen it or don't care.
This movie connected with me in so many layers, notwithstanding that I am exactly at Evelyn's crossroads. I am minutely aware that all my choices have led me into this exact moment. The challenge is to be present in that moment whether it be overwhelming or dreadful.
I have moments of daydreaming, nostalgically cherry-picking moments in my life where a different choice would have led to a vastly different existence. Take for example the time I professed my love for the very first time in my life, it was the scariest thing I had ever done in my entire life thus far. Do I win her or do I lose her? I imagined a life ahead that we shared side-by-side, it all hung in the balance. In another universe perhaps that led to a completely different outcome, then fast-forward four decades and imagine how both versions of me would feel about each other's choices? Both of them equipped with the same decades of memories of struggle, triumph, crisis, and mediocrity.
Personally, I love the mundane moments most of all. All the shit that I complained about in my 30s, turns out to be the kind of things I now associate with my happy place. Like driving to the city twice a day to drop off and collect my wife at her workplace. I was mostly alone in the car, listening to radio or playing cassettes. Not unlike my current job delivering parcels.
I've started and abandoned many hobbies, just like Evelyn. Some of them I occasionally practice like Karate-do and Aikido. Some of them I have turned pro, like cooking and dancing. However, just like Waymond (such an adowable name), I have finally understood the supreme importance of kindness.
This movie resonates with me in ways so deep. I felt the disappointment of my father and judgement when I made choices he disagreed with. I wore the same wardrobe in the eighties and nineties. I also dragged my wife and child to start life in a new country, in part because I wanted to prove to my father he was wrong and I was right. But most of all I remember a moment too when I looked at the endless circle track that I was carving in time-space. Telling my daughter how to do better as an adult when I wasn't at all sure I had done any better than what my own parents had hoped for.
I have daydreamed of many versions of myself where I was a warrior, a sailor, an explorer. These other versions of me I have tried to access, not with paper cuts or butt-plugs, but by actually trying them out. Like when I learned to fly a plane. I once wondered what my life would be like if I pursued my childhood dream to become a pilot. I've flown enough hours that I'm desperately confident that I can land a single-engine light plane in an emergency.
I've also lived long enough to know that it takes time, a lot of time to get good at anything. So even if I fall in love with a new hobby, there are even chances that I may stick with it or drop it once I have reached a minimum level of proficiency. In terms of the movies, that's why they go through great twisted lengths to explain how anyone can just instantaneously learn to fight like a ninja at a convenient plot point. Because we all inherently know how long it takes to master anything from chess to surfing.
I like to believe there are an infinite versions of me coexisting in infinite universes. There are universes where I am an actor, dancer, writer, explorer, warrior, teacher, etc.
What if I take this idea much further.
What about the other people in the universe we all share? So a new universe just split off when I wrote an entire paragraph and decided to delete it all, but what if someone random decides to call in a sickie instead of going to work, which version of me would be in that universe?
Let me tell you what I am beginning to feel, and it sounds very much explained in The Egg
We practice kindness because everyone else is really us. We are all connected. Like leaves from the giant tree of the multiverse, each life in a tangled chain is one Being on an infinite loop of variations and recombinations (Jeremy Beremy?).
You and I are the same person at various points of our eternal experience.
Aloha.
I love you too.
I'm fairly confident around dogs, I just feel that most dogs would learn to like me. I mean until I have established some sort of rapport with the animal I will treat them with caution and always with respect.
My job as a parcel delivery driver, I have encountered many many dogs of all sizes and temperaments.
Addresses with vicious dogs are well shared among all posties and drivers, just card them. Always. Then there are those dogs who get very territorial crashing against doors and windows while I'm trying to write a card (obviously if the owner was home, there will be a lot shushing and trying to calm down the animals). I always heed the sign on the gate that says "beware of dog" (some even have it in Italian -just to show they have culture "attenti al cani").
As a general rule I would call out "Parcel delivery! Is anybody home?" before opening a gate, sign or no sign. Usually, dogs would come running out barking as it's probably the most interesting thing to happen to their day. If there are no dogs, I enter, but maintain caution. Just because there is no beware sign, is no guarantee there isn't any animal to beware of. I keep an eye out for food or water bowls, or toys.
In one of my deliveries while still a rookie, a greyhound came to the gate when I called out. He was friendly, sniffed me and let me pat him. So I figured I'd be okay to drop off the package at the front porch so I opened the gate and let myself in being careful to keep the dog in the yard. He was so excited he kept rearing up and put muddy pawprints all over my chest, I also realised how his mouth was level with my neck when he did that. I was about five steps in when a second greyhound I wasn't aware of arrived next to me like the velociraptor in Jurassic Park. I froze and made a quick re-assessment of my situation. I can handle one dog, but two dogs make a pack. Discretion was the better part of valor so I walked slowly backwards and let myself out of the gate while pretending to play with the dogs. At no time did the greyhounds bark throughout the whole encounter. The customers can go pick up this package at the post office.
Not long after, I started carrying dog treats with me. If a dog was nice to me and responds to the "sit" command, they get a treat. If the owner is present, I'll ask permission first and that usually wins over the human as well. Sadly though, not all dogs accept bribes.
A couple of months ago, a dog surprised me just as I finished taking a photo of the card I had jammed into the front door. I was turning on my heels to step off the veranda, I had to change direction quickly to create distance between me and the dog. The edges were lined with potted plants so I dived over the plants into the garden floor below. I still clutched the package in one arm so I couldn't put an arm out to break my fall. I tucked my chin against my chest planning to roll on impact. Oof! There was no roll, I landed on my side and had the wind knocked out of me. The dog was friendly and just wanted to say hi. My ribs were sore for a few days.
I do have a few favourites, there's Murphy in Hazelbrook who is is just always happy to see us and will be up for a sniff and a pat, maybe a neck rub.
There's Banjo in Wentworth Falls who is sometimes wandering a few houses from his own and he comes up to me when I'm delivering to any of his neighbours.
And of course there is Ratchet in Lawson. When I first delivered to his house, he was lying on the front step trying to stay cool in the summer heat. He heard me call out and silently ambled toward the gate. I realised he was old and his eyes were a little cloudy. He let me pet him so I decided to enter through the gate. As soon as I closed the gate behind me, Ratchet rolled over and presented his belly. I get it, it's a shakedown. You wanna deliver? It's gonna be a belly rub to get in and another one to get out.
Today was another canine adventure. Usual protocol: Call out. Listen for barking. No barking. Enter through the picket fence gate with a little picket archway. About 10 meters in, another 20 meters to the front door, the backdoor swings open and the homeowner steps out. Okay cool. Then a big white dog dashes through the backdoor, barking and headed for me. Another quick assessment of my situation. I can outrun this dog, it's only 10m to the gate, and I have a 20m headstart on him. I turn and dash for the gate. 5m to go and I could hear the barking dog closing in. I look over my shoulder and make a re-assessment of the situation: I won't have time to open the gate, I'm going to have to vault it parkour style. I planned out my strides, -left -right -one -two -three -four /right foot on the wooden bench, -five / left foot on top of the gate post, -six and-seven would land me outside the gate... my right foot catches on the picket fence pointy tip and I fall head first outside. Luckily this time I did roll and avoided injury. The owner apologised for the dog chasing me, but I was too busy hysterically laughing because I didn't break my neck or crack my skull.
When I first settled in the mountains, I had in the back of my mind a desire, a dream to have a salsa dance community in the community I'm in. Well then that led to the next thought which is why don't I teach classes? Well it was difficult to find my feet since I just started a new job as a chef instructor. Also the rosters were quite unpredictable -I never new until 3 weeks before that I have to do dinner shifts on one or more nights. And then the pandemic happened.
Fast forward to now and I have a great job that leaves my weekends and my evenings available to -do what I want. Right now I want to dance. I want to share my passion for dance. I want to build a salsa dance community in my community!
And I will need anybody and everybody to help. That's kind of the point.
It might take a while.
That's okay.
I love analysing processes and finding opportunities for improvement. Back in the 90s there was a "quality improvement" revolution in the corporate world. These days you'd probably know it by the buzzword Six Sigma. So anyway, here I am now with a process job. Because I think it is fun and I cannot resist myself, I try to analyse my tasks in terms of a work algorithm. Basically how would I program an android to do my job.
Before we get into it, allow me to walk you through what actually happens on my typical day as soon as I arrive at work:
Sorting
Before I even get there, trucks from the Eastern Creek hub would be arriving at the depot from 3AM to drop off all the mail and parcels for the Blue Mountains area.
Forklift operators would pull out cage pallets from the trucks and deposit them into the bull pen.
Workers in the bull pen would swarm each new cage, sort the parcels into the correct run cage. By the time I get there at 6AM, most of the parcels have already been sorted. My supervisor would tell me which run I am doing and give me my assigned cage. That means all the packages that I will be delivering today is in this one cage (sometimes two on a busy day).
I would start pulling out each parcel and writing down the street number on my run sheet. The run sheet is a tabulated list, with street names on each row, and I read and copy the address numbers of each package I pull out. As I place each one on the floor, I try to arrange the packages in the same order of the streets on my run sheet. The idea is that I would load the packages into the van in reverse order, so that the last package I will deliver is at the very back of the van, while the first package is right next to the door. This means I will spend less time rummaging through the van to find a parcel when I get to the address.
Scanning and Loading
After I have emptied the cage and written down every address number on my run sheet, I have to scan the barcodes on each parcel. This tells the system that the package is loaded into my van and will be delivered today, sometimes the customer gets an email or text message triggered by the scan.
Then it's time to load the van. I like to think of it as 3D tetris with extra objectives:
- trying to stack the packages so that they fit snuggly
- trying not to crush the flimsy packages with heavier ones
- allow me to see the labels to quickly find any package
- keep packages for the same street together to make it easier to search
Delivering
Drive to the first street on the list and stop at the first address. Find the parcel, scan the parcel, drop off the parcel, take a geo-tagged photo, submit and cross off the address on my run sheet. Go to the next address, repeat until van is empty.
Most of the deliveries are called safe-drops where we can leave it even if no one is home. However some packages require a signature, and that takes extra time because we have to wait for someone to answer the door. And if there is no one to sign for it, I have to fill out a sorry-we-missed-you card, stick it in the door jamb and take the parcel back to the post office for self-collection.
On a good day, everyone gets their parcels and I go home after the last delivery. Unfortunately, most days I have to clock off only after I've dropped off the carded parcels at the local post office.
The best part is that after I clock off, there is no more mental residue from work that I take home with me.
When I am done for the day, I am done for the day.
Tomorrow is another cage, tomorrow is another run.
Thank you COVID lockdown.
Thank you for getting me out of the kitchen and allowing me to homeschool my young daughters.
Thank you for gifting me half of my winter basking in the warmth of my children.
Thank you for healing me. The enforced pause in hospitality has given plenty of us time and space to consider why we do what we do. Is it just a job? Is it also a calling? Would we rather be doing something else?
Two years ago, I was desperately looking for any job that would give me a stable economic base to live out my life. I wasn't even considering a hospitality job in my search because I was already in hospitality and I knew the hospitality hours were not the best. Neither was consistency nor security of employment. But somehow I was found, recruited, and signed on because it was secure employment and I had no other offers.
It saved me.
But it cost me dearly. I had to move away from my children and missed out on time with them. I buckled down and did what needed to be done. I worked the job hard and fought harder to get time with all my daughters. Thank you for the struggle, thank you for the harvest, thank you for the growth.
It was really good until it wasn't. Because of the dynamic and uncertain course of the COVID-19 pandemic, my roster was robbing me of time with my children. This was on top of the rising pressure in the kitchen as more and more work were being shouldered by the kitchen team. And ultimately this stress literally gave me ulcers. By the time lockdown commenced, I was only too happy to not work a kitchen for a while.
And now that we approach the end of lockdowns as vaccination rates are met, I have found the job that I started looking for two years ago. Hay salamat.
Like many people of my generation, we have accumulated many skills and XP. 35 years earlier I earned a degree for a career in computing. 20 years ago I re-discovered my passion for dance and music. 12 years ago I earned a culinary certificate from TAFE to become a chef. This week extends my journey from wearing suits and ties for work, to wearing Hi-VIS apparel.
This week I'm a contract delivery driver for Australia Post.
And since everyone at work knows I'm a newbie, I no longer suffer from impostor syndrome. This is me and I will try my best every day.
Thank you.
This job makes it possible to have the kids every weekend if they want. Gracias.
Ahh, seems I called it too soon. This COVID-19 pandemic has everyone scrambling again with the rise of the highly transmissible Delta variant. Which in real terms, meant that I have not worked a kitchen in over 3 weeks. Unlike last year when we still had students at Hogwarts to support and sustain, this time we have no students and no guests at all. When this lockdown is lifted, sometime in August optimistically, first thing we have to do at work is throw out all the expired food and make a big order to re-stock the hotel.
On the plus side, I have spent the past week on leave home-schooling my young daughters. It is a full time job with the youngest who always seems to need help with every little detail. Actually she is sneakily trying to get me to do her work for her, but since I'm on to her, I always try to push it back on her to get to the next step.
her: I don't understand.
me: which part?
her: All of it.
me: Okay, read the first sentence.
her: You read it.
me: No, you read it. So I can see you're trying.
her: You read the first sentence, I'll read the next one.
me: Oh darling, you read the first sentence and I can do the next one.
... and back and forth goes the negotiation and tricky devious tactics she tries to get me to do her work for her.
And then it hit me as I was prepping vegetables for the next meal, it's like I am back at work feeding a campus with just 2 students and 1 staff. I cook what I like, but my students are picky -they'll happily eat burgers and nuggets but will suddenly declare themselves vegetarian if they don't like a meat dish I put up. It sounds like I'm bitching and whining, but I'm chuffed to have them here with me for a whole week. For that I am most grateful for this lockdown.
