'nothing will come of nothing' King Lear, Shakespeare

Wandering back to the warehouse from the toilet on Thursday, I had to navigate a group of women in heels and pencil skirts tagged as visitors by labels hanging around their necks.  They were huddled together at the entrance to the warehouse observing its activity; one had clipboard. On passing I overheard the clipboard informing the others that operations were soon to be updated with the introduction of headsets and wristbands to improve efficiency of picking and packing operations ... 

this caused me to slow down and then stop.

In my head, I was imagining what would be going through the heads of the pencil skirts - I see, high-viz vests controlled by headsets and wristbands, hmm, more organized and better controlled, operations can then be optimized and that should serve our business, it's going to make the pie chart look good, and it provides a better facility to monitor and track progress.

I looked back at them and imagined the clipboard saying to the pencil skirts huddled around her - this mess you see here, people in various states of disarray, is now going to be taken under control, automated,  what you see here, people counting books and putting them in boxes is now on target for reorganization, a new approach has been approved and will be implemented in the near future, we have warehouse operations under control.

I'd stopped because I wanted to say to the pencil skirts that maybe, in our high viz-vests and steel-toe-capped boots, we look like a sloppy part of the operation, a part that needs needs cleaning up, sanitizing and tighter control: I wanted to join the little gathering; look each one in the eye and explain that we are workers, active on the front-line, and that we are people, but

I did nothing.

We do nothing.

I'd been away for 5 weeks and there's been no progress toward a living wage.

The pencil skirts shuffled out of sight, led by the clipboard, back to their pie charts, I went to get myself a drink of water and I stopped there, I couldn't help but to regard the situation, and I became  aware that I'd done nothing, said nothing.

I know I have a voice through the union, but it remains mute.

Why???????????

Because we do nothing.

We're like Cordelia, mute in the face of authority,

'my love's more ponderous than my tongue' she tells the tyrant

'nothing will come of nothing' spells out the authority.

These words repeat in my head, bang, bang, bang; an alarm bell, I'm doing nothing.

And the dehumanization continues, more rust has fallen off the van, shall we mail it to the director? There needs to be a reminder in the offices and board meetings of our plight and the problem of misdirected accountability. They don't have a 'cost of living' pie chart to ponder, to direct their misguided business targets, our faces don't appear on the clipboards, if I do nothing they see nothing, we remain overlooked, and we're about to be automated with wristbands and headsets, silenced and shackled.

Time is running out, no one cares and nothing gets done.

I've spent a good few minutes now, at the water dispenser,  just standing there,  realizing that I do nothing and that nothing will come of nothing.

I get a purple sticker and write on it 'living wage please' and stick it in the middle of my chest, no one remarks; after lunch I stick it by my name on the sheet with the list of names for the next day's shift.

The next morning I get  a message telling me not to come in.

Nothing will come of nothing,

so I write.