Working day

I recently start a job that has 12 hour shifts. The usual response I get from people, ‘how what why are you okay?’ A reasonable question if you’ve never had to work such long arduous hours. Today being a kind of snow day I thought it would be interesting to keep a record of my day. This is that record (Imagine Law & Order sound effects in your head.).

A little background, I work for a company called DMS (Direct Marketing Solutions.). Don’t let the name fool you into thinking we are some kind advertisement agency or something. You know those annoying credit card, and loan offers you get in the mail? Yea we make and send out all of that (Your welcome.). My job title is catcher, (Insert you homophobic jokes here.) basically their is a fancy machine that cuts paper and sometimes those cheap little credit cards that aren’t real credit cards but you know people try to use them as real credit cards because they feel the need to print in big letters NOT A CREDIT CARD, yea the machine cuts, folds, and glues all that together so I can pull the finished product off a conveyor belt, put them in a cheap rectangular box, stick that rectangular in a cart or stack them on a pallet to be used by someone running another machine who puts them together with an envelope that fits just right which than gets picked up by an employee in the shipping department, who than takes it to the post office who than delivers that finished product to your door. So as you can probably tell by my enthusiastic writing, it’s not the most glamorous of work. Don’t get me wrong, happy to have a job that pays enough to cover my bills and for a guy with barely a high school education, beggars can only be so choosy (Thanks a lot Obama.).

My day starts off (As many do.) with my phone alarm going off. Groggily I stare at my phone curse my life and turn it off. I turn to look out my window seeing if maybe I was lucky and a blizzard blew thru last night snowing my car in. While the world outside is a majestic scenery newly painted with fresh fluffy snow, it’s not deep enough for me to excuse not going work. Especially considering it’s my last day of the week (While I work twelve hours a day I only work 3-4 days a week.) so I begrudgingly throw on my clothes, preselected the night before, consisting of thick socks, yoga pants under my jeans, a long sleeve t-shirt and a light winter jacket. I than drag myself to the bathroom, take my meds, brush my teeth, lace my shoes up (Cleverly placed in the bathroom the night before not because I lazily took them off while going to bathroom when I got home last night.) stare in the mirror and consider running off to the woods and starting a new life as a reclusive hermit who sells herbal remedies and expels spirits. Remembering my addiction to mouthwash and general disdain for bugs I begrudgingly grab my lunch and face mask before creepily looming over my wife to give her an awkward kiss goodbye. I consider sneaking into my daughters room to do the same but decide against that course of action on the off chance she decides to wake up.

The cold is oddly refreshing and a great wake up call. I quickly throw everything in my car before turning the key to start her up. While she is busy warming up purring like a kitten wanting to embrace me with her enticing warm interior, I scrap off the fresh coating of snow that was draped over her in the interim between shifts. This doesn’t take long as the snow is fresh and their is very little ice. I’m sleepy and barely awake so I take an iced corner to quickly and nearly spin out, luckily their is no one around so my cars manic movements go unnoticed. Fear weirdly never grips me, instead I find myself remembering the time my wife explained to me that when a person bleaches their asshole they aren’t, as I had always assumed, dying the hair around their brown hole but lightening (Or bleaching in some cases.) the skin around said area, this makes me snicker as I keep going. It’s a slow trek to work, understandable considering the weather conditions and I’m in no rush.

I arrive at work a few minutes late but I’m not the only one. In fact many people haven’t shown up all, not surprising considering the weather. Most of my coworkers barely notice my presence, a few give weary head nods. One colleague Rosie (I have changed all names to avoid any violations of privacy.) gives a smile behind her mask through tired and shadowed eyes. The only person who actually seems to be awake is Tony, who greets me cheerfully and we chat for a bit about tips for dealing with the weather before our boss assigns us positions for the day. The machine I’m assigned too wasn’t running last night (Our warehouse is running 24/7.) so we wait an hour and change for the glue to heat up. Once the machine is finally running it keeps having problems so it’s stop and go until our first fifteen minute break. I’m glad it wasn’t hard because I forgot to eat breakfast this morning so I tear into my packed lunch which consists of ratatouille and potatoes. I even take a few bites of red velvet cake that my wife threw in their. The pieces are small, she never packs much sweets or chocolate if any knowing that I’ll avoid eating anything nutritious in favor of that seeet sugar high.All in all it’s not a bad start to the day.

Returning to my post things run smoothly. My job is very repetitive when everything is working. Like I said I load boxes with newly arranged offers until my cart is full, someone takes it away or I push it off to a waiting area. Than I load more boxes with offers, than I load more boxes and than I load more boxes...A new hire wanders in breaking the monotony. She needs help figuring out where she should go, my operator helps her locate a manager and get sorted. The machine has problems after that,so we are stop and go for the next two hours, that coupled with missing paper work means we hardly get any work done. Than it’s time for another fifteen minute break.

I forgo snacking to pop outside wanting feel winter wind in my hair and cool air kiss my cheeks. I stand in a small grove of trees right outside our building. The silence is a stark contrast to the loud warehouse with its constantly running machines always whirling and clanking. I feel sad at the thought that I might miss the snow, it’s only suppose to snow one more day, tomorrow, and I’m leaving for California tomorrow. I wish I believed in spirits or gods so I’d have someone to ask, ‘bring back the snow! I’ll be back next week, please!’ I’d insist, offering my fealty. Instead I just enjoy the quiet basking in this small boreal sanctuary I’ve found. When I’m too cold I reluctantly return to the warehouse feeling akin to entering a crypt. I sit down for a minute or two before work begins again.

The machine runs smoothly for about an hour, I loose myself in the repeativr motions my thoughts drifting from topic to topic. I think about personal problems and family problems, conversations I’ve had, reliving them, imagining alternative outcomes, I follow the threads seeing parallel worlds birthed from actions, some only with innocuous differences, others contrasting to the point were one wonders if they truly started out the same. I think about politics and the problems of the world, I rewrite shows and movies and even a few books in my head. Adding and subtracting characters at a whim. Whole plot lines developed and resolved, established ones forking off into new lands. This keeps me entertained until I’m informed we will be changing jobs (Internal jargon for ‘the machine will be gluing and folding some new credit card offer.) so I take my time getting ready. The process almost never goes fast and is never seamless. I drop a plastic pallet too hard and am told by a supervisor not to let it fall with such abandon because it can startle someone and/or hurt their ears. I affirm to him that I will not do it consciously again, all the while laughing internally at how ridiculous a request it in considering that we’re stuck in a concrete box with dozens of machines running 24/7 so loud that everyone wears ear plugs, the company even gives them out for free! That’s how loud it is! But no the pallet hiring the floor too hard is whats really going to do us in. I theorize it’s probably the result of a lawsuit, some lucky bastard probably got a nice payday because of it. I wonder for a bit about who that lucky bastard is and than it’s time for lunch. The machine is not working when I leave it for the lunchroom.

Lunch flies by fast. I sleepily shovel food in my mouth as I cruise around Reddit, a coworker prays behind me. I always have the desire to ask her what number she’s on, I know it’s between one and five. It seems like a set thing so maybe I’ll Google it later. Most likely not though.

I find I’m not as hungry as I thought I’d be but I try to eat as much as possible. Knowing I’ll need the energy food can provide. The day is half over but now comes the hardest part. Maybe I’ll get lucky and the machine will stay broken till it’s time to leave…

The machine is still broken after lunch. I busy myself by gathering recycling from mine and a few other stations. Stepping outside I take a moment to stop and breathe in the fresh crisp. I don’t notice I have my eyes closed until I hear the door slam shut behind me. Thinking nothing of it I toss the cardboard debri and turn to head back inside. Only to find the door locked. Chuckling to myself I now understand why everyone props the door open when outside. Luckily I have my ID badge on me so getting back in will be no problem. On the way to the entrance door I pass by trailers held up on stilts. Green moss is sprouting wildly underneath covering almost the entire area headless of the frigid temperature. I have the strong urge to throw everything off and lay until their until the cold or greenery take me. My personal heaven, winter air and moss covered land to walk on.

Inside I find the machine still under maintenance. I mostly just sit there bored, my mind struggling as the long hours break my spirit slowly. Eventually the machine is fixed (Sorta.) so we’re able to make some headway for the next hour or so. Frequent stops are required as the machine seems to be throwing a tantrum. This is compounded by the fact that my legs have finally started to feel sore, I can feel them aching longing, tree trunks ready to break. The minutes seem to be hours the hour a whole day until finally we can rest.

I spent my next fifteen minute break sitting as still as a potted plant not willing to move unless absolutely necessary.I try to eat, my food sits out in front of me as I write this though I don’t find myself hungry, I consume a few spoonfuls of ratatouille and potatoes nearly falling into my food. So damn tired. Just so damn tired.

The machine runs mostly better after the break. Which sucks, a boomer may hate me for thinking this but I really have never minded getting paid to stand around and do nothing.Still I labor through it, all until my next break, another blissful fifteen minutes of sitting and silence.

Only two more hours to go, seems like a life time away. Machine runs well so I actually work the whole time I think. Most of it anyway, my brain feels like mush. I can barely type anything, you can’t tell by reading it but their are long pauses between sentences, sometimes between words. At least I can still ramble while I’m tired. Because I am so fucking tired. I just want to go find a pile of snow outside and jump into it. Frostbite and hypothermia be damned.

I get a text from my wife, images of her and my daughter building a snowman together, my daughters first ever. I’m kinda glad I’m tired right than, being tired makes it easier to not miss them. My legs though, they have really begun to ache. I don’t know if humans are suppose to be on their feet for this long. It seems unreasonable, at least the checks aren’t bad though. Might be getting some hazard pay for coming in during the snow I’m told by Tyler in passing. Shitty part is this is one of the better jobs I’ve had. Days like this I wish I’d finished and published my book, than became a millionaire I could just spend my days doing whatever I want.

The machine works great now. Mangles a few letter here and there but runs find otherwise. So for the next two hours I work putting offers in boxes and boxes on pallets. Than rinse and repeat, again and again and again and again…

Than it’s time to clean. I clean and tidy my area as quickly as my fatigued body is able. Than I turn in my paperwork, grab my stuff, clock out and I’m free!

Thanks for reading, hope you all enjoyed. If you liked this think about shooting me a tip or pledging if you really want more.