October 16th began like any other day at the school, where I had been working as a janitor for quite some time. The only notable difference was that it was Parent Conference week, which meant students would be dismissed early due to minimum-day schedules. As I went about my routine, sweeping and mopping the floors, vacuuming the classrooms, and ensuring every corner of the institution was spotless, I received a call from Mrs. Janitor (no relation to me), who worked in another part of the building.
"Have you heard anything about people working on the roof?" she asked, her voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of concern. I had not heard anything from management regarding any work scheduled for that day, which struck me as odd because it's rare for groups to volunteer their services without prior notice. This indicated to me that there was indeed legitimate work being carried out on the school roof, albeit during hours when students were absent.
Later in my shift, I realized that some classrooms were inaccessible due to the work on the roofs. It meant I couldn't reach certain areas, including where the trash cans needed to be emptied. I left a note for the day custodian, explaining the situation and requesting his assistance with the trash disposal the following day. As I continued my rounds, I found myself deep in conversation with another coworker over our headsets, exchanging stories about our respective sites. It was then that Mrs. Janitor appeared at the door of the restroom I was cleaning, an unusual occurrence because she rarely asked for help or favors. "Can you come with me?" she requested, her expression serious and intriguing. Her reluctance to share what had transpired only piqued my interest more. I followed her to a classroom in her wing, where she opened the door to reveal chaos. Chairs were scattered about, books lay on the floor, and there were paw prints visible on the walls. "Raccoons," she said simply, "I found them in here. They wouldn't leave, so I had to chase them out." I couldn't help but chuckle at the image of Mrs. Janitor, known for her independence, shooing away a family of raccoons from their temporary classroom abode.
It was clear that she hadn't asked me over for assistance in cleaning up the mess, which suggested she might have wanted an impartial account of the event. I later recalled my own encounter with these masked bandits earlier in the day. As I opened the storage room door, two raccoons appeared out of nowhere, seemingly unafraid. They stared at me intently before wandering off once they realized I wasn't a threat. The rest of my evening was spent pondering over how best to navigate the blocked classrooms and the unemptied trash cans within them. I decided to leave a note for the day custodian, detailing my plight and hoping he could provide some relief in his shift the next day. Fate had other plans, as I soon discovered upon waking up early on October 17th. The supervisor, Ray, had left me a message requesting that I come into work because the day custodian had called out sick. This was both an opportunity and a test of my endurance and commitment to the role, especially since I had recently applied for a day custodian position myself. As I sat down to pen this account after finishing my unexpectedly extended shift, with my faithful companion Taco the corgi by my side, I couldn't help but feel a mix of relief and gratitude. Relief that the ordeal was over, and gratitude for the chance to reflect on what transpired in those eventful days.
This unexpected turn of events taught me several valuable lessons: the importance of flexibility in one's work routine, the need to stay alert and adaptable in the face of unexpected challenges, and perhaps most importantly, the value of a supportive team that can rally around when needed. As I close this chapter, I'm reminded of why I enjoy my role as a janitor - it's not just about cleaning floors and emptying trash cans; it's also about being part of a community that relies on each other for support and camaraderie.
