I have been trying to pen a message for so many days, I’ve lost count. What day is it today, anyway? Tuesday? Friday?
I need to provide my clients a professional update about the business and talk about details, when all I can think about are feelings and data and justice.
Yes, technically, EFTE operates in industries that are allowed to continue working right now. Even though industry groups and political leaders have instructed us to do site work only for emergency issues, “emergency” is self-defined, and often stretched.
The truth is, we’d rather be working in your gardens, woodlands, trees, and yards right now. A few weeks ago I was in the process of hiring three new employees. Instead, I shuttered site operations and instructed my manager to apply for unemployment compensation. One of the main reasons I created this business was because I wanted to provide good jobs, so this closure leaves me gutted.
While it may seem that our work is “safe,” crew members nonetheless are at risk whenever visiting a client’s property, when gathering tools from our storage, when purchasing equipment and materials, when filling their gas tanks. And frankly, EFTE does not own enough tools to have one of every lopper, pole pruner, hard rake, chain saw, mattock, wheelbarrow, and heavy spade for every crew member, so we have to share. Sharing is really risky right now. I cannot bear the thought of one of my employees contracting the virus during work. And as we’ve seen with healthcare workers, even taking precautions is no guarantee.
If we followed the ISA/TCIA guidelines to the letter, we would only do emergency jobs, but that is not enough work to keep our crew going. And I have yet to discover how many hours I could pay an employee that would enable her to keep receiving unemployment checks. Is three hours writing a newsletter too many? But I shouldn’t get ahead of myself. Even if I want to do that, I don’t have the money to pay for it. Instead, I have the early season expenses like renewing insurance and web hosting and did I mention our truck needs new tires?
So I sit at my desk for a few hours, trying to be productive, applying for assistance, realizing that I don’t qualify for most of it. And no, I won’t put my house up for collateral on a business loan right now. Nobody should have to do that.
I open my email, make myself read a message or two, then realize how overwhelmed and distraught I feel, so I get up from my desk and wander to the basement, cobbling projects together from bits of scrap wood and old paint. I pass the time saying hello to my tomato and pepper seedlings. What else am I supposed to do right now? No, don’t tell me, I know the answers, I know the list. I have it in a couple evernote notes and on a cork board on the wall and in a post-it note array on an oversized clipboard on the floor, and on a daily schedule on my desk. I write in lunch over two 15-minute slots, just to give myself permission to do only that for a half hour. But that’s done and now is the next slot. I should fill it in with something.