Day one

A 7:00am start requires a 5:30am rise to get to the mines in time each day. Mike and I arrive in his pickup in time to sign on, scoff down a bowl of museli and front up for the pep talk at the start of the day by our boss Terry. I listened as I awkwardly perched on a hard plastic chair and fumbled with my bulky jacket, hard hat and eye wear. I scanned the group of burly tradesmen and labourers who will be my (hopefully) gracious colleagues for the coming month. Mike circulates through the mess of men, breathalyzing a randam sample. Yesterday saw a positive for THC with one of the workers so Terry is forcing down hard.

There's no mucking around here. There is a phenomenal amount of work to get done servicing a monster of a machine that is used on the open-cut mine. Immediately I'm paired up with Dale my supervisor who is made aware that I'm a green-horn (although I don't imagine it's hard to notice that I'm not in a familer environment). I'm presented with a folder containing page upon page of tasks that need to be done on the project and I'm instructed to fill out a risk assessment for any task I undertake. It looks like a frustrating task but vitally important as I'm to learn in a couple of days when a co-workers task doesn't go according to plan...

'You're gonna be cleaning mate' Dale said as he tossed a white 'sperm suit' at me. 'You're too pretty to get dirty' he chuckled. The sperm suits are white, head to toe protective suits for doing the real dirty work and when topped by a white work hat makes one resemble the little swimmers. And I was straight into it. Scraping grease off large machine components using my own gumption and excessive amounts of de-greaser. So execessive that by mid-afternoon I seemed to be soaking in the smelly liquid. I've fallen into the same pattern as per usual when I start a new job - work too hard too fast and not smart enough. Mike sees me and demands I take off my dripping suit.

Day one and I already feel a bit of a fool.