Here I sit broken hearted, came to write, but I just can't get started.
Give it another try darling hubby says................
I wrote
.......The Troll emerged from his cave rambling about nonsensical nothings splashed with a dash of crazy. I could do nor more than return to sipping my tea and continue enjoying an imaginary cigarette......
Over my shoulder he read, than ended it with "look you've got it. You can do it" as rolled his chair back to his side of the office. With his back turned, I snarled at him, I wanted to throw something really, really heavy at his direction. If I knew I wouldn't miss, I would have given it a shot. Luckily for my darling hubby, I am the worst pitcher I know. At this moment I really don't like him either, because he his more right now about anything than he has ever been.
Giving up smoking was essential, if I wanted to continue living that is. A heart attack will do the trick; change the ignorant assumption that 'it won't happen to me!' trick that is.
With perfect blood pressure, perfect cholesterol levels and the fact I haven't had a flu since 2004, I wont mention the almost daily crucifying headaches, because they don't count, I was in perfect health. I could continue to smoke 40+ smokes a day and run like the wind till I was at least 92. That's how I figured it to be. I was wrong, but I was lucky.
It has been 4 weeks, 3 days, 12 hours and something minutes, since my last cigarette, though I have smoked at least a multitude of imaginary ones since then. I am also so sick of Wrigley's Extra chewing gum....blah!. By the way, has anyone lost 10 kilo's in weight recently, if you have, great! I have found it for you, and could you please pick it up ASAP, its a real drag carrying it around.
I need cigarettes to unlock the words that ramble in dangerous, out of control directions in my head, hence the 4 blogs, 6 unfinished (but could be finished literary works of sheer genius) novels and the 3 people, whom I dodge their phone calls, because I haven't been able to finish the articles that they've wanted since before Christmas.
If I could just smoke while I'm writing, I wont smoke any other time, I promise.
Maurie, my darling hubby, hit me with the reality checked awful truth. It stung, it hurt, it was cruel.
He looked sternly at me and pounded directly at me "If you stopped writing today, you won't shatter peoples lives, they won't be devastated, you wont ruin peoples lives, they'll move on to the next 10,000 writers out there and they will continue to live. If YOU died, then you would shatter our lives, there we would be devastated, those who love you the most will be forced to continue with their lives with a hole in their heart that possibly may never close!"
Hmm, he had a point that I couldn't argue against. Sniff, sniff for the insignificant writer. Maurie was right, but he didn't need to be that right, even though he too has given up smoking as well.
As a parent we obligate ourselves to give up our vices for the sake of our children. Simply, we love our children so much that we want be better people for them, to be there for them, always.
I gave up smoking when I was 21, the very moment I found out I was expecting my first child. I had smoked since I was 13 and had tried on so many occasions to do the impossible, give up smoking. A positive pregnancy test was an instant solution.
At 13, I was whisked away from my parents to attend an exclusive boarding school for gifted children. Hailed as a junior prodigy, the masterpiece that had everyone buzzing with excitement was written at 2am one morning, in the covert darkness of my parents garage while puffing away on cigarettes I had stolen from them.
Needless to say, the school waited with abated breath for me to produce another masterpiece for the schools impressive portfolio that never came. With no access to cigarettes, the creative was drought stricken. Had they known that was all that was needed to unlock the words, they would have eagerly snuck in the contraband, as they did for other students, but I didn't realise the connection myself.
With the coming of my first child and the many that followed, I was too busy being a parent to consider ever smoking again. Always ignoring the sporadic 2am wake up of words streaming through my mind like a Japanese bullet train; for they were usually gone before I could collate them to paper anyway.
Just after the death of my father, on New Years day, some years ago, I was left with a handful of half empty packets of smokes. My house, the venue for that years party, and as per usual there were the few standard, cliched NY resolutions. Alone later in the day, I was left with temptation that hadn't tested me in more than 17 years.
It began a tight, strongly fuelled marriage of smokes & words.
Within the year I had 2 novellas published, written a synopsis for a business that had won them so many awards that I still have people lining up to utilise my wordsmith qualities.
A few terrifying painful minutes alone in a very public place, was the demise of that marriage. Outside the ladies toilet, my son was waiting, wondering, 'Gee, Mum's taking a long time' while he was puffing away on his own cigarette. My son no longer smokes.
I did it though, I said goodbye to 40+ smokes a day, a truckload of rampant obnoxious words and my daily companion; the headaches from hell, in an instant.
I have done it because I love my children more than I love myself. Smoking might make me a better writer but it doesn't make me a better parent. I will always be a parent first.
In advance I offer my apologies for all future mundane, routine, smoke free blogs.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
When Workcover isn't interested in employee's safety
When you think of Workcover; an Australian government authority, you could be forgiven that you'd believe this government agency is all about the safety of Australian employees within the workplace. This is not entirely correct as I found out recently.
Luckily no one was hurt to find this out, it came to light within a tense conversation I had with a rather obnoxious tyrant of an inspector. He came storming up the stairs unannounced, throwing a flimsy business card at me, pulled out an generic officeworks notepad and started to fire away questions. I was taken back by the bizarreness of his actions, I thought, who the hell is this bloke anyway.
He demanded our complete attention, all work stopped, that meant no orders could be finalised and dispatched, which violated our very strict operating policy.
He drilled, he pursued, he hammered, he terrorised before I could stop and really look at his business card.
He had my production staff cowering in terror while the office staff made an escape down the stairs when his back was turned. Two staffer's quickly swapping their cool Havianna thongs for court shoes in the process. I did say no thongs to be worn, but it was very hot and one staff member is going through menopause at the moment which did get me into trouble. The extra fan I brought from home a couple of days prior, to help bring her some relief during hot flashes didn't have a tag on the lead, hence the fine. She murmured 'arsehole' under her breath whilst he was handing me the infringement notice. I gulped when I saw how much the fine was. It's a fan I use at home normally which doesn't require a tag by law. The next menopausal employee will have to suffice with the airconditioning we have.
While he was going through the process of inspection, at the back of my mind I felt a growing sense that something was amiss with this person, something didn't feel right about this whole scene. Something not right at all.
He started to ask me about prestart & and end day protocols. Having gone through a terrifying armed holdup a little over 2 years ago, which left a deep emotional wound not only in myself but in both my daughters who were present that fateful evening, I held back the tears of pain to explain what happened and how we now have a very strict policy on staff safety before and after hours.
His response was contritely apathetic "I am not interested if you escort your staff to their car after hours, or you have a secret code for emergency if they have been threatened by intruders, I want to know if you have a prestart meeting every morning outlining known safety hazards for the day!"
With that I said " You do know that women having finished work late at night are in more potential danger of being attacked or possible killed than by the absence of tag on a temporarily used domestic table top fan? You do know that some staff carrying the days takings have been ambushed causing detrimental emotional carnage for years onwards?"
he replied as he lazed back on my chair he commandeered while zipping up his fly in a condescending manner that made me feel more than uncomfortable "Workcover isn't interested in that at all" was his retort.
"Really? How very, very sad that Workcover isn't interested in the true safety of employees" I shook my head.
I thought of the fines produced that day from small businesses everywhere that were breaking protocols innocently. I left the offending fan at work while I waited for the electrician to come and tag it, at least my employee can still have some extra comfort during the hot flushes. I had already been fined. I also thought about the $3 million fine that filled Workcover's coffers after my son's accident and how little was the tiny speck of compensation he received, though his life would never be the same again. I also thought how the company he worked for folded and the livelihoods of 30 other men was extinguished as Workcover became all the more richer for my son's tragedy.
I would have thought that it was far more logical to have rehabilitated, educated and assisted the company to be safe in all aspects of operation rather than executing it.
A similar execution is now raining down on a dear friend.
Workcover must have released their 'dogs' in the vicinity of our area for a snoop operation as a friend, business owner and employer was also overrun by the workcover militia at the same time as us. The last month has turned her from a bubbly, happy, a much loved employer and person in general, into a dithering mess, now on suicide watch. What has she done wrong?
No faulty equipment, all leads tagged, all bars of soap in the toilets and washbay have techspec sheets pinned to the wall, anti allergy sheets in the lunch room, a full time employee that has been trained as a first aid officer, a full metal first aid kit with padlock, fire extinguishers, exit signs visible, an emergency evacuation plan, O, H & S folder, coffee, tea, chai and hot chocolate provided. My friend has a lot of love and respect for all her staff, and they in turn for her.
My friend's husband was called by a concerned staff member after hearing his wife on the phone to the Workcover inspector in a hail of tears wondering if she died in the next 21 days would her family then still be liable for the $15,000 fine and 6 months imprisonment. If she died would all the trouble go away. It was the final straw after being forced to submit a piece of paper more than 5 years old. A historical piece of paper of no value that she no longer had in her possession. She had 21 days to submit the no longer existing, expired piece of paper.
He collected his inconsolable wife from her office and hasn't left her side since. He is wondering how it got this far?
"For f@%k's sake he says to me it's a frigging piece of paper from 6 years ago and I am losing my wife because of it!!".
It might be the retrospective piece of paper that has my dear friend unraveling at the seems, but it started with a hand rail that was 3mm too close to a wall. A minimum clearance for those who might be unfortunate enough to have fat, chubby fingers, but a woman walking alone at night to get to their transport home is of no concern for Workcover.
My dear friend was given the option of demolishing an entire wall and rebuilding it 3mm further away. Her husband used a winch strap and buckled the rail inwards, away from the wall. The rail is now significantly bent, unsightly, but it passes. Then came the lighting issue, then came a folder which was named "The Methods Manual" by my friend, but it should have been named an Induction folder.
Couple of times a week he came in with notices for this, that or whatever, each time she went home biting her nails. Each time she managed to fix, find or resolve.
He finally found something that he could fine her with. He wanted to see a workers compensation insurance schedule for every year that she employed staff. My friend did what every one else does, throw out the expired insurance cover and file the new one. Her insurance company helpful as they were, could only supply the last five years of cover, finding the whole request odd themselves. With frantic phone calls back and forth, the inspector seemed to lighten up, seemingly satisfied.
A few days grace, with a return to normal work routine along with major catch ups, a letter arrived in the mail with the formal notice of the fine of $15,000 and 6 months imprisonment if the old insurance covers were not produced within 21 days. My friend buckled.
The iron clad lady of justice had come calling, shod with shoes of malice.
I had been suspicious about our inspector's actions so I did some research. There is a handout available directly from Workcover called "When Inspectors call". Much like the audit charter booklet I was handed by the tax audit officer at the beginning of our tax audit last year, it gave very clear guidelines and expectations about the whole process. This booklet is an invaluable source of information, easy to read and understand and it must be handed to all employers that are being inspected.
Sadly for both inspectors we are dealing with here, neither seemed to be aware that there a few rules inspectors must stick too.
I had already confronted my inspector about a few things, I haven't seen him since.
Workcover Inspectors can come unannounced, but they must show photo id. If they cannot produce a photo id, then an employer can exercise their right not to allow them onsite until confirmation with Workcover can be obtained.
They should be accompanied by an industry professional (always a min of 2 people) an inspector should never be alone.
The first time visit mostly involves assessment. The role of the inspector is to also provide information, education and advice on the requirements of OHS or workers compensation law.
Provide advice on the development and improvement of systems to eliminate or reduce the risk of injury and illness. For small businesses, stumbling with the anally retentive protocols of OHS will be offered a Small Business Starter Kit (catalogue No. 50)
Inspectors according to this compliance manual should only initiate prosecution action against negligent or reckless offenders.
Employers also have the right to appeal any infringement notices if they feel it is unreasonable.
This manual might just be the saviour for my friend to win the appeal. She's definitely not the murderer that could be freed on a mere technicality, but an innocent woman whose normally sunny demeanour has been crushed by a series of unfortunate Workcover events.
Luckily no one was hurt to find this out, it came to light within a tense conversation I had with a rather obnoxious tyrant of an inspector. He came storming up the stairs unannounced, throwing a flimsy business card at me, pulled out an generic officeworks notepad and started to fire away questions. I was taken back by the bizarreness of his actions, I thought, who the hell is this bloke anyway.
He demanded our complete attention, all work stopped, that meant no orders could be finalised and dispatched, which violated our very strict operating policy.
He drilled, he pursued, he hammered, he terrorised before I could stop and really look at his business card.
He had my production staff cowering in terror while the office staff made an escape down the stairs when his back was turned. Two staffer's quickly swapping their cool Havianna thongs for court shoes in the process. I did say no thongs to be worn, but it was very hot and one staff member is going through menopause at the moment which did get me into trouble. The extra fan I brought from home a couple of days prior, to help bring her some relief during hot flashes didn't have a tag on the lead, hence the fine. She murmured 'arsehole' under her breath whilst he was handing me the infringement notice. I gulped when I saw how much the fine was. It's a fan I use at home normally which doesn't require a tag by law. The next menopausal employee will have to suffice with the airconditioning we have.
While he was going through the process of inspection, at the back of my mind I felt a growing sense that something was amiss with this person, something didn't feel right about this whole scene. Something not right at all.
He started to ask me about prestart & and end day protocols. Having gone through a terrifying armed holdup a little over 2 years ago, which left a deep emotional wound not only in myself but in both my daughters who were present that fateful evening, I held back the tears of pain to explain what happened and how we now have a very strict policy on staff safety before and after hours.
His response was contritely apathetic "I am not interested if you escort your staff to their car after hours, or you have a secret code for emergency if they have been threatened by intruders, I want to know if you have a prestart meeting every morning outlining known safety hazards for the day!"
With that I said " You do know that women having finished work late at night are in more potential danger of being attacked or possible killed than by the absence of tag on a temporarily used domestic table top fan? You do know that some staff carrying the days takings have been ambushed causing detrimental emotional carnage for years onwards?"
he replied as he lazed back on my chair he commandeered while zipping up his fly in a condescending manner that made me feel more than uncomfortable "Workcover isn't interested in that at all" was his retort.
"Really? How very, very sad that Workcover isn't interested in the true safety of employees" I shook my head.
I thought of the fines produced that day from small businesses everywhere that were breaking protocols innocently. I left the offending fan at work while I waited for the electrician to come and tag it, at least my employee can still have some extra comfort during the hot flushes. I had already been fined. I also thought about the $3 million fine that filled Workcover's coffers after my son's accident and how little was the tiny speck of compensation he received, though his life would never be the same again. I also thought how the company he worked for folded and the livelihoods of 30 other men was extinguished as Workcover became all the more richer for my son's tragedy.
I would have thought that it was far more logical to have rehabilitated, educated and assisted the company to be safe in all aspects of operation rather than executing it.
A similar execution is now raining down on a dear friend.
Workcover must have released their 'dogs' in the vicinity of our area for a snoop operation as a friend, business owner and employer was also overrun by the workcover militia at the same time as us. The last month has turned her from a bubbly, happy, a much loved employer and person in general, into a dithering mess, now on suicide watch. What has she done wrong?
No faulty equipment, all leads tagged, all bars of soap in the toilets and washbay have techspec sheets pinned to the wall, anti allergy sheets in the lunch room, a full time employee that has been trained as a first aid officer, a full metal first aid kit with padlock, fire extinguishers, exit signs visible, an emergency evacuation plan, O, H & S folder, coffee, tea, chai and hot chocolate provided. My friend has a lot of love and respect for all her staff, and they in turn for her.
My friend's husband was called by a concerned staff member after hearing his wife on the phone to the Workcover inspector in a hail of tears wondering if she died in the next 21 days would her family then still be liable for the $15,000 fine and 6 months imprisonment. If she died would all the trouble go away. It was the final straw after being forced to submit a piece of paper more than 5 years old. A historical piece of paper of no value that she no longer had in her possession. She had 21 days to submit the no longer existing, expired piece of paper.
He collected his inconsolable wife from her office and hasn't left her side since. He is wondering how it got this far?
"For f@%k's sake he says to me it's a frigging piece of paper from 6 years ago and I am losing my wife because of it!!".
It might be the retrospective piece of paper that has my dear friend unraveling at the seems, but it started with a hand rail that was 3mm too close to a wall. A minimum clearance for those who might be unfortunate enough to have fat, chubby fingers, but a woman walking alone at night to get to their transport home is of no concern for Workcover.
My dear friend was given the option of demolishing an entire wall and rebuilding it 3mm further away. Her husband used a winch strap and buckled the rail inwards, away from the wall. The rail is now significantly bent, unsightly, but it passes. Then came the lighting issue, then came a folder which was named "The Methods Manual" by my friend, but it should have been named an Induction folder.
Couple of times a week he came in with notices for this, that or whatever, each time she went home biting her nails. Each time she managed to fix, find or resolve.
He finally found something that he could fine her with. He wanted to see a workers compensation insurance schedule for every year that she employed staff. My friend did what every one else does, throw out the expired insurance cover and file the new one. Her insurance company helpful as they were, could only supply the last five years of cover, finding the whole request odd themselves. With frantic phone calls back and forth, the inspector seemed to lighten up, seemingly satisfied.
A few days grace, with a return to normal work routine along with major catch ups, a letter arrived in the mail with the formal notice of the fine of $15,000 and 6 months imprisonment if the old insurance covers were not produced within 21 days. My friend buckled.
The iron clad lady of justice had come calling, shod with shoes of malice.
I had been suspicious about our inspector's actions so I did some research. There is a handout available directly from Workcover called "When Inspectors call". Much like the audit charter booklet I was handed by the tax audit officer at the beginning of our tax audit last year, it gave very clear guidelines and expectations about the whole process. This booklet is an invaluable source of information, easy to read and understand and it must be handed to all employers that are being inspected.
Sadly for both inspectors we are dealing with here, neither seemed to be aware that there a few rules inspectors must stick too.
I had already confronted my inspector about a few things, I haven't seen him since.
Workcover Inspectors can come unannounced, but they must show photo id. If they cannot produce a photo id, then an employer can exercise their right not to allow them onsite until confirmation with Workcover can be obtained.
They should be accompanied by an industry professional (always a min of 2 people) an inspector should never be alone.
The first time visit mostly involves assessment. The role of the inspector is to also provide information, education and advice on the requirements of OHS or workers compensation law.
Provide advice on the development and improvement of systems to eliminate or reduce the risk of injury and illness. For small businesses, stumbling with the anally retentive protocols of OHS will be offered a Small Business Starter Kit (catalogue No. 50)
Inspectors according to this compliance manual should only initiate prosecution action against negligent or reckless offenders.
Employers also have the right to appeal any infringement notices if they feel it is unreasonable.
This manual might just be the saviour for my friend to win the appeal. She's definitely not the murderer that could be freed on a mere technicality, but an innocent woman whose normally sunny demeanour has been crushed by a series of unfortunate Workcover events.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)