I bounce around a lot from site-to-site on the job this time of year. While I still spend the majority of my time at my usual spot, I am called upon to cover additional ground as the workforce gets spread around thin. At a site I don't spend too much time working, I found this fridge note from a co-worker:
It's an interesting juxtaposition, injuries and food. I'm the guy who places the orders for first-aid supplies for the organization, and chemical cold packs are the items which see most use, aside from small adhesive bandages- people fall, they get stung by insects... things happen. I'm glad that the staff uses real ice-compresses, while saving the instant ones for the patrons.
The title of this slim post (I'm running to another site as soon as I hit 'publish') is inspired by the title of Talking Heads' second album. Here's Found a Job from the album:
I found a job... and I can't seem to escape it these days.