Meet Will Power, the productivity specialist

November 22, 2022

It’s 5.45 am.

Some dude named Will Power grabs me and hoists me out of my bed and onto his shoulder like an inch-thick old carpet.

I grab a banana camouflaged in brown while Will heaves me through the door. 

Still drooping on his shoulder, I throw nature’s best energy bar in my chewing hole to feed the Sarlacc and my engine sputters before coming to life.

Will’s job is done and after dropping me on my trusty two-wheeler, he flips the bird for friendly goodbyes.

I’m already late and it’s still dark outside. 

I pick up my speed, pedals spinning and squeaking in the silence of the sleeping suburb, morning mist aimlessly floating in the air.

Roughly six thousand five hundred, ninety-one and a quarter cycles later I toss my bike in the rack and rush towards the big grey building also known as the furniture factory. 

Night shifters clock out and I punch in. I grab my tried and tested booster shot from the vending machine and I can feel my productivity soar.

I command my feet to move towards the back of the factory. That's where they throw the newcomers and squeeze out every ounce of juice you got.

I make it to my corner without the factory manager spotting me, grab my trusty chair equipped with four wobbly wheels and roll in front of the green metal machine. I'm surrounded by a dozen ceiling-high stacks of plywood seat sheets and one flickering light hanging above me.

Let’s get juicing.

My glorious job is inserting stainless still nuts into the wooden seating parts of school chairs using the hydraulic press also known as the juice machine. Later on if I advance in my job I'll be rewarded with the task to screw on legs to those nuts. Hurray.

The hours meander at the speed of a chameleon and by eleven o’clock I’ve been drained dry. The last bits of any brain activity dripping down my earlobe. 

Time to return to the vending machine and power up. 

Where’s Mr. Power when you need him?

Two hours, one hundred and thirty-four seats later it’s time for lunch.

The food is plenty and they’ve not saved up on the chocolate pudding. I scoop down the key ingredients of an effective team member and then it’s time to return to my machine in green.

Two weeks later I wake up late and realize Will is gone. 

Maybe he got tired of carrying a 60-kilo sack of meat on his shoulder. 

Who cares. 

I fall back asleep and swear never to return to the factory. 

Maybe it was just a nightmare.

A black and white photo of the author Jussi's smiling face with shortcut hair and a short beardJussi Tarvainen

Former pro snowboarder. Author at night. Multi(failed)-entrepreneur. And mostly an awesome designer (said, my five-year-old son).

plenty more loot in the vault

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