Work

There are many things I really like about my job.  I like that my hours are flexible.  I like getting to organize things into neat little (or not-so-little) rows.  I like looking at really old stuff.  I like learning things about the City - about its history and about its processes.  And even though it might sound crazy, I like that it's boring.  My life is plenty crazy everywhere else, so it's nice to go to work and have a break for a few hours.

I just finished my first month working on a special project in the Fire Marshal's Office (FMO).  It's been very interesting.  The FMO is currently inside a fire station, so that makes it even more interesting.  The firefighters are super nice guys, and the fire marshals are... well...it's been interesting meeting them. :)  The amusing thing to me is, the one deputy fire marshal (DFM) I really like is the one everybody else rolls their eyes at.  Well, I don't care what they say - I like him anyway.

Several people have asked me what the difference is between a firefighter and a fire marshal, and I'm glad I wasn't the only one who never noticed the distinction.  Firefighters are in a division called suppression - they put out fires and help sick people and respond to all kinds of other emergencies.  Fire marshals are in a division called prevention - they inspect buildings for safety hazards and teach classes to kids and stuff like that.  Some of the fire marshals used to be firefighters, but most of them were not.

My job for the next couple of months is to digitize all of the FMO inspection records.  So far I've scanned about 16,000 pages for them and I've just started.

Every day at lunch time, I sit in the fire station kitchen at a long table surrounded with rocking chairs.  I'm still not used to eating in a chair that is meant to tip backward; it's very disconcerting.  Because of their rotating shifts and the nature of their other days off (I learned about something called Kelly Days), I feel like I see different firefighters every day.  You'd think after a month that they would start to look familiar, but they don't.

There is one female DFM in the office and I'm very grateful for her.  If it weren't for her, I'd feel like I sneaked into a boys-only clubhouse.  It's the only place I've been (except maybe my dad's armory) where there is a long row of stalls in the men's room, but only one accommodation in the ladies' room.

The guys are always joking with everybody.  When I first came, I was warned that joking was good; if a person isn't teasing you, they probably don't like you.  They have lots of very silly Photoshopped pictures up on the walls in the kitchen (I'm guessing they are inside jokes, because some are pretty strange).

There are 7 or 8 recliners facing a big screen TV in an always-darkened living room area.  The TV is always on, and there is always something boring playing: an instructional video, the weather channel, golf, or national news.  I think they have enough drama in their real lives, so they like to zone out in front of mellower stuff.  Today I walked through there to get to the kitchen and there were 4 firefighters fully reclined and fast asleep!

I know they workout downstairs.  I've never been down there, but when I walk passed the stairs I can hear music blaring.  There is an upstairs area too, which I can only assume is where they sleep.

The fire station isn't very big, so it's kind of surprising that I can't hear very much from where I sit.  Maybe it's because my own equipment (computer and printer, etc) is so loud.  If I sit still and pay attention, I can feel the rumble of the engines as they come and go from the station.  And if the office door is open, or if I'm in the kitchen, I can hear the alarm when they get a call.

It starts with a clank, like the almost-ring of a large bell that is not allowed to vibrate.  Then a slightly musical chime is followed by the GPS lady announcing the call.  Yeah, you know that lady in the GPS who tells you to turn left at the next intersection?  Well, she also lives at the fire station and she says things like, "Engine one; near drowning; priority five; 123 Main Street..."  She sounds just as happy to be there as she does in my car.

I get the distinct impression the DFMs aren't overjoyed that I have invaded their office with my noisy equipment and my constant questions about this file and that file, but I'm enjoying my little adventure.  And my favorite DFM (the one they roll their eyes at) said he might invite me on a ride-along when they have a structure fire.  That would be way more interesting than scanning paper!