I've been demoted. Economic events over the past year have required the woodworking company I work for to "restructure" its employee base. I was previously a sort of apprentice, learning different aspects of woodworking; shaping raw timber into dimensioned pieces of wood, finish sanding and detailing, and quite a bit of staining and painting. However, the "restructuring" process has put me in the position of shop lackey. My duties now include taking out the garbage, emptying the scrap wood barrels, sweeping the floor, assisting the gents who still do woodworking with menial tasks, and the ever important bathroom cleaning. But I can't complain I suppose, being as I am still employed.
The workshop is a fairly large one, taking up about an acre, and that leaves quite a bit of smooth concrete floors normally associated with your big box store. The lowly sweeper moves across this concrete expanse on a regular basis, with a big box on wheels in tow to deposit sawdust in. Fortunately, someone named this receptacle a "dust box," so there is little confusion about what goes in said box. The outside of this box, which measures about 3 ft. x 3 ft. x 3 ft., is decorated with the names of the fallen sweepers who have been associated with this box in the past. I have not put my name on the box as of yet, as I refuse to believe that my future lies on four wheels with a variety of brooms sticking out of it like skewers in a sawdust fondue. I have made some minor improvements to the dust box, such as adding a screw into a corner to hang my clipboard on, and a platform to hold my R2D2-size coffee mug. Clearly, I haven't fallen that far if I have a clipboard, complete with notes of what tasks should be routinely accomplished.
What tasks are these? Well, you may think that my job description could read, "sweep, clean, repeat," but you would be far off. In fact, there are specific areas of the shop that require my utmost attention. Not by the machines which generate enormous volumes of deciduous and coniferous slag, nor in the areas most frequently traveled by employees. Nay, my focus first and foremost is the entry points of the shop, so that the first impression of the shop a visitor may have is of a tidy, well-kept pinnacle of craftsmanship. Ignore the missing trim in the office that apparently is not on anyone's clipboard, nor will be anytime soon (I asked).
I still get to learn a bit about woodwork now and again, especially when I beg someone to let me help them with a task. My company produces exceptional products, and last summer I worked on orders from high rollers such as Oprah Winfrey and Steve Miller. My hope is that work starts to pick up again and some other fortunate soul will find himself adding his name to the outside of the dust box.
