Just when I'd stopped thinking about them, France decided to whip out a couple strikes to throw a wrench in my day. I had a package to mail out this morning, so I headed out to the closest post office. Alas, a notice on the door of the darkened bureau notified me that they were closed to strike over poor work conditions. «Le mal vivre au travail : ça suffit !» is their slogan, which I'd loosely translate to mean "Poor working conditions: we've had enough!" I didn't realize post office employees had it so rough, but according to Le Figaro's article long term medical leave as well as suicides are on the rise among these employees. Yikes. Luckily the big post office in town was open, so I was able to mail my package (and provided this strike doesn't last, Mom, you should be getting a little something hopefully in time for Mother's Day).
Strike two occurred when I tried to go to the pool with my roommate Ghislaine. We took the tram up to the Grouchy pool (pronounced groo-shee, of course), only to be greeted by this sign:
"Because of a strike, the pool will be closed at 11:00am. You must leave by 10:40am"
Come on, guys. What's your excuse? Poor work conditions due to chlorine inhalation? It's a swimming pool, for crying out loud. If you don't want to work in the afternoon, at least get creative. What ever happened to just saying that a kid pooped in the pool?
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