After my ten day quarantine, only a few weeks of actually doing my current supervisor role, we are full on into the Class 5 hurricane that is the holiday season on the grocery line. We are short staffed and hogtied on overtime. For the most part, I am left to my own devices to figure shit out.
But that’s what a supervisor does, so, I should lean in and enjoy the challenge. Or at least that’s what I am starting to understand in my first role as a leader in any capacity since highschool basketball. I’m learning how to drink water straight from the firehose, full stop.
The holidays are right around the corner. It’s the Super Bowl or Thunder Dome when you’re on the grocery line. This year will be different for me. I’ve never worked during Thanksgiving or Christmas. I’ve always had the days off to spend with family and friends. It’s lovely to kick back with the people you love but this year I will be in the trenches, dodging turkey bullets and throwing back stuffing grenades from angry customers that just don’t understand how we can out of whatever organic, farm raised Austrian turkey they promised the kids.
I wonder how this will go down with a customer base stoned on the fear-mongering media and rumors of additional lockdowns as they stampede the supermarket in hopes to buy a meal that allows them forget the whole damn year. Linda and Dave will be back (as if they never left) with their demands. I will be trying to learn while not going insane as I put out fires, write production schedules and receive shipments that have been increasing in size.
2020 has been a year to test our resolve. I know it has made me look deep inside to try and figure out how I can make it through. Self-reliance, whiskey and the people I love have been vital. I will be better for all that I’ve gone through this year. Drinking from the firehose of life allows you to enjoy the slow moments and you learn at an accelerated pace. I dont have much of a choice but to understand things intuitively. There isn’t enough time to sit down and really focus for long periods of time.
Life on the grocery line is no joke. It will take in you on an unexpected journey and then throw you to wolves that look oddly human. My days pass in the blink of an eye. I’m running around just trying to make it look like I know what I am doing. And right in the middle of all the things I need to do I have Linda come up and ask about the sourcing of our mash potatoes. I want to snap, but instead, I explain to her that the potatoes are organic and locally sourced. She questions my knowledge. I assure her I know they are. She concedes and walks away. I look at the package to double check, relax momentarily, and remember that was only a test of my emergency response system. I’m getting better at this.