I hate shift changes.
I like to be ordered, I like things the way I like them, things in their place (not that it helps me to remember where they are you understand, ask my wife). I like to know that in 6 weeks or 3 months time on a Friday I’ll be working this shift and the√ā¬†following√ā¬†fortnight I’ll be working that shift. It creates some semblance of order and harmony in my life, a working life of which has been throughly filled with disorder and disharmony.
So it really pisses me off when they send me an email saying in 3 month’s time my shifts have been changed to something really crappy, like another late turn. It pisses me off because I’m being mucked around and it pisses me off because the people that run the show ought really to be able to staff the control room without pissing on every other person’s chips. They ought to be able to staff it fully at all times to cover such amazingly surprising and shocking abstractions as annual leave, the occasional period of sickness and public holidays which we’ve have the temerity to sneak up on us every year like an Afghanistan IED at the side of the road.
Oh wait a minute, they’ve cut down the staff to the bone to save a few quid and have to √ā¬†fuck about more and more people with increasing regularity.
They changed some staff on my shift last week, instead of working a late turn they were told to work an early turn, they did this with three months’ notice because with three months notice it doesn’t cost them anything, it just fucks our lives about. As they got a bit closer they realised the late shift were going to be short, so they changed some people from nights to lates. call me stupid but might it have made sense for the night turn to cover the early turn and then you just fuck off one set of√ā¬†people√ā¬†rather than two?