Enough of that depressing top 10 list. I've been too busy to mindlessly write something clever/sarcastic. This week hasn't been very kind to me so far. Sunday I still had a cold when I went to work, and it just made everything a lot less fun. Then monday I just hit a wall. Couldn't think straight, couldn't force myself to tough it out anymore (and this was on my 'day off') and I just avoided my family for the whole day. Didn't even eat that much. Shut out the world for the day while I got some sanity back, because over 3 weeks of working 7 days a week is not the way to go. Ever. If I ever start doing that again, anyone who reads this should pull me aside and hit me repeatedly, or find some way to remind me about what trying to be invincible accomplished - nothing. No money is worth the way I've been feeling, strung out so much that I can hardly work.
But, life goes on. It doesn't slow down like people do on the highway to stare at an accident, it doesn't change pace when it suddenly gets busy - it just goes. You can either panic that you're not driving, or you can control as much as you can in your world while it moves along.
I'm currently moving from the former to the latter.
Anyway, to the point of this post, its title, and to the self-incriminating story housed therein...because everybody loves a good incriminating story.
So, I don't know how much a pallet of canned food weights, but I'm guessing it's somewhere around a ton and a half, two tons. That's heavy. If that falls on me, there's not a lot I can do in the survival department that doesn't include turning green and getting really big and angry. Normally there's no reason a pallet on the ground would jump up and collapse on me, but some of them are on racks that slide out to let the new, full ones show when the old ones run out. But sometimes, they catch on the rails and don't slide, or only slide when you don't want them to.
So the other day I had to go inside one of these shelves, with pallets on rails, and get a whole bunch of packs of cans. All the while I'm assuming that one of these cans is going to lighten the weight enough that the pallet is going to come sliding free, and I'm going to be separated from my knees by a juggernaut of foodstuffs. So, I'm getting the cans, when it starts to move a little. I get the cans faster. Eventually I have to look and see what type of food is about to take my life.
It is, of course, corn.
I am here writing this today because I obviously did not get killed by the pallet, but all the same if I had died, I think my friends who knew me best would probably just laughed at the all too-fitting demise-by-corn of yours truly.
And thus the Nebraskan made fun of himself again.
Miscellaneous:
-Praying for a certain someone to get out of surgery safely.
-Hope another someone doesn't get mad that I'm definitely not calling them this week.
-Hope ___ knows what they are doing, because it is going to be a long year regardless.
-Ready to completely give up on ____. How can you keep on acting like this? Your immaturity is advanced as your insecurities, which are pretty damn high I'd imagine.
-If I can keep straight who I meant some of these for in the next six months, I'll be fricken amazed.
-No more Mr. Nice Guy. This is the way things are, pal. Get used to it.
-Thanks for understanding, while at the same time being able to never comprehend a God-forsaken thing that I say. That's quite a talent you have there.
This theory states: All brain cells have the capacity to put together some really crazy ideas. Most are ignored by better judgment. The rest ends up here.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Top 10 Crappiest Things about my Job
Just what it says. I don't really like my job. Off the top of my head, these are the biggest reasons why.
10) Number system
This is getting less annoying, but it still sucks. The aisles are numbered as if you'd go from one numerically into the next while on an order, which snakes you around and really f*&%s up the way that everything is numbered. Also, aisles 17, 18, 26, and 30 all hold a special wish from me that they burn in hell, because their contents is either unstackable, heavy (80+ lbs), or both.
9) Commute
Ok, I don't even have to pay for gas cuz I'm busting my butt so much that my dad is pitching in, and it still kills. Every week I go through a tank's worth. Maybe this is average for all you morning commuters out there, but the damn place is a half an hour away from my house, and I have to coast like mad to try and save gas.
8) Constant work
So, if you know me, normally I would list this as a good thing. I like to work. I like to feel as if what I'm doing has a purpose, and I am getting stuff done fast and well. But this is the ultimate in IT-NEVER-ENDS kind of work. It's mind numbing. I hear a number, pick up a thing, try to place this thing on the pallet so it doesn't fall/break, then repeat. I apply it to the menial labor people speak of in hell, moving rocks back and forth or whatever. Actually, this is the complete opposite of that - I mean, I'm bringing food to people who are going to be sustained by it. But if they could just drink less bottled water, my back might love them a little bit more. Which brings me to my next one:
7) Pain
Again, normally if you know me this wouldn't even make the list. I put myself through tons of pain all the time. It's called weight lifting, sports, and other types of work that I do. All in all, I'm used to pain But this, this is just constant. And I'm doing it to myself without ever getting to see any of the money I'm making, so it feels like it's for free, and that makes it all the worse. My back feels like your legs do after you run five miles - you know that burning, tingling, I'm-gonna-give-out-on-you feeling? Put that in your back for a few days. My hands hurt from catching things before they smash my face, arms, feet, etc. My arms look like I was trying to cut myself, with all these cardboard-shaped incisions.
6) Damn F*^&ing Construction
This should have been higher on the list, but that just speaks to how much I hate all the other stuff ahead of this. They are building an addition to this warehouse, another 200 yd facility the same size as the current one, and there are construction guys everywhere, with all their tools and junk lying around. Also, they are redo-ing several random patches of concrete all along the most-often used aisles in the warehouse, which makes life hell for anyone trying to go anywhere.
5) Payscale
At first, I revelled in the potential payout this job could give me. Then I had my first day, and realized how damn stupid it was. I bust my ass every day, and have barely achieved their minimum, '85% efficiency' rating. Yes, part of it is not knowing where to go or what to do, and another part is the construction slowing everybody down, but it's just impossible to watch the potential money going out the door because of things I can't completely control.
4) Music
It's beyond my control, and it's invariably old country. Those two things drive me nuts. It's like a brainwashing insult to all my senses. I have an annoying computer voice in one ear, and tons of twangy complaints rushing in the other.
3) Boxes
There's a special, dark, evil place in my heart for all cardboard boxes. This grew out of moving 6 seperate times. I hate it. It reminds me of all the insecurity, lack of control, stress, and sad events of my childhood, since most were preceeded by packing up and moving. It takes a lot to beat out something like that.
2) Headsets
And these are making it their goal to do just that. Their pure annoyance factor pushed them this far. The cord gets in my way, the headset only picks up the 'bang' from a dropped box and thinks it's me saying a number, while completely missing my voice which it was programmed to hear, and they actually hurt my head. Fantastic. Way to go, technology. (I swear at these a lot. Sure hope there isn't someone getting all the feeds from our headsets into a computer or something, or I might soon be out of a job...).
1) Computer voice
But nothing beats out the voice coming in from those damned headsets. I swear this voice will haunt my dreams for years. It's this computer generated voice that sounds way more fake than the creators probably wanted it. It goes around telling me I said '8' when I didn't say anything, tells me I'm wrong (that really, really gets to me. It doesn't know what the hell it's talking about), and just generally squawking at me all the damn day long. I know it's bad when I smile at the idea of the command to shut it up when I go on break or go home for the day, since then I know it's gotten to me.
But at least I have school to go back to. A guy was helping me reorganize an order I messed up, and genuinely wished that he could go back to school in the fall. The idea that 'this is it' has probably struck him pretty hard. I don't have to look around and see my permanent future yet, thank GOD. My life can still be whatever it is I want it to be. It really made me stop being mad about the day and thankful I've only got about 18 work days left this summer. And thankful for a lot of other things.
10) Number system
This is getting less annoying, but it still sucks. The aisles are numbered as if you'd go from one numerically into the next while on an order, which snakes you around and really f*&%s up the way that everything is numbered. Also, aisles 17, 18, 26, and 30 all hold a special wish from me that they burn in hell, because their contents is either unstackable, heavy (80+ lbs), or both.
9) Commute
Ok, I don't even have to pay for gas cuz I'm busting my butt so much that my dad is pitching in, and it still kills. Every week I go through a tank's worth. Maybe this is average for all you morning commuters out there, but the damn place is a half an hour away from my house, and I have to coast like mad to try and save gas.
8) Constant work
So, if you know me, normally I would list this as a good thing. I like to work. I like to feel as if what I'm doing has a purpose, and I am getting stuff done fast and well. But this is the ultimate in IT-NEVER-ENDS kind of work. It's mind numbing. I hear a number, pick up a thing, try to place this thing on the pallet so it doesn't fall/break, then repeat. I apply it to the menial labor people speak of in hell, moving rocks back and forth or whatever. Actually, this is the complete opposite of that - I mean, I'm bringing food to people who are going to be sustained by it. But if they could just drink less bottled water, my back might love them a little bit more. Which brings me to my next one:
7) Pain
Again, normally if you know me this wouldn't even make the list. I put myself through tons of pain all the time. It's called weight lifting, sports, and other types of work that I do. All in all, I'm used to pain But this, this is just constant. And I'm doing it to myself without ever getting to see any of the money I'm making, so it feels like it's for free, and that makes it all the worse. My back feels like your legs do after you run five miles - you know that burning, tingling, I'm-gonna-give-out-on-you feeling? Put that in your back for a few days. My hands hurt from catching things before they smash my face, arms, feet, etc. My arms look like I was trying to cut myself, with all these cardboard-shaped incisions.
6) Damn F*^&ing Construction
This should have been higher on the list, but that just speaks to how much I hate all the other stuff ahead of this. They are building an addition to this warehouse, another 200 yd facility the same size as the current one, and there are construction guys everywhere, with all their tools and junk lying around. Also, they are redo-ing several random patches of concrete all along the most-often used aisles in the warehouse, which makes life hell for anyone trying to go anywhere.
5) Payscale
At first, I revelled in the potential payout this job could give me. Then I had my first day, and realized how damn stupid it was. I bust my ass every day, and have barely achieved their minimum, '85% efficiency' rating. Yes, part of it is not knowing where to go or what to do, and another part is the construction slowing everybody down, but it's just impossible to watch the potential money going out the door because of things I can't completely control.
4) Music
It's beyond my control, and it's invariably old country. Those two things drive me nuts. It's like a brainwashing insult to all my senses. I have an annoying computer voice in one ear, and tons of twangy complaints rushing in the other.
3) Boxes
There's a special, dark, evil place in my heart for all cardboard boxes. This grew out of moving 6 seperate times. I hate it. It reminds me of all the insecurity, lack of control, stress, and sad events of my childhood, since most were preceeded by packing up and moving. It takes a lot to beat out something like that.
2) Headsets
And these are making it their goal to do just that. Their pure annoyance factor pushed them this far. The cord gets in my way, the headset only picks up the 'bang' from a dropped box and thinks it's me saying a number, while completely missing my voice which it was programmed to hear, and they actually hurt my head. Fantastic. Way to go, technology. (I swear at these a lot. Sure hope there isn't someone getting all the feeds from our headsets into a computer or something, or I might soon be out of a job...).
1) Computer voice
But nothing beats out the voice coming in from those damned headsets. I swear this voice will haunt my dreams for years. It's this computer generated voice that sounds way more fake than the creators probably wanted it. It goes around telling me I said '8' when I didn't say anything, tells me I'm wrong (that really, really gets to me. It doesn't know what the hell it's talking about), and just generally squawking at me all the damn day long. I know it's bad when I smile at the idea of the command to shut it up when I go on break or go home for the day, since then I know it's gotten to me.
But at least I have school to go back to. A guy was helping me reorganize an order I messed up, and genuinely wished that he could go back to school in the fall. The idea that 'this is it' has probably struck him pretty hard. I don't have to look around and see my permanent future yet, thank GOD. My life can still be whatever it is I want it to be. It really made me stop being mad about the day and thankful I've only got about 18 work days left this summer. And thankful for a lot of other things.
Monday, July 20, 2009
Retrospect Learning Curve
Some of these posts, I've decided, will be for the entertainment of some random Google searcher who stumbles onto this blog. Other posts will be for me to look back on and laugh. This one could be both, I suppose.
Things I have learned from working around high school guys:
- If I swore that much in high school and constantly sounded that stupid, I don't ever want to know about it. There's just something about a voice that sounds like it's constantly on the verge of cracking that just takes all the umph out of any four letter words.
- Stuff must have been funnier back in those days. Cuz these guys laugh at EVERYTHING. Pretty sure I could be a stand-up comic if I had an audience of nothing but adolescent guys.
- 21 can feel really freaking old around guys who are 5 years younger than you. Then, I get mistaken for a high school kid, so I guess that evens out.
- I hated high school. HATED it. Like I would rather shut my hand in a door every day for a month than go back for those four years....even with that being the last time I got to play soccer competitively (depending on your definition of our team's ability to be competitive in any of those games.) This isn't really something new that I learned, more of a reiterating of some facts that I am very sure about, and was reminded of by these kids.
To be honest, high school didn't treat me that badly. I had friends. I made more by the time I graduated, and they are still around. I got to play the sport I love. I got to go to prom in THE most kick-ass prom vehicle on the planet. Whatever your vehicle was, you didn't stand a chance. Can your vette stop .50 caliber rounds? No? Then you start to get the idea of how much sweeter it was. (And how necessary such an armored vehicle is at prom in Wisconsin. Seriously.)
If I think of more teen-induced epiphanies, I'll add to the list.
Things I have learned from working around high school guys:
- If I swore that much in high school and constantly sounded that stupid, I don't ever want to know about it. There's just something about a voice that sounds like it's constantly on the verge of cracking that just takes all the umph out of any four letter words.
- Stuff must have been funnier back in those days. Cuz these guys laugh at EVERYTHING. Pretty sure I could be a stand-up comic if I had an audience of nothing but adolescent guys.
- 21 can feel really freaking old around guys who are 5 years younger than you. Then, I get mistaken for a high school kid, so I guess that evens out.
- I hated high school. HATED it. Like I would rather shut my hand in a door every day for a month than go back for those four years....even with that being the last time I got to play soccer competitively (depending on your definition of our team's ability to be competitive in any of those games.) This isn't really something new that I learned, more of a reiterating of some facts that I am very sure about, and was reminded of by these kids.
To be honest, high school didn't treat me that badly. I had friends. I made more by the time I graduated, and they are still around. I got to play the sport I love. I got to go to prom in THE most kick-ass prom vehicle on the planet. Whatever your vehicle was, you didn't stand a chance. Can your vette stop .50 caliber rounds? No? Then you start to get the idea of how much sweeter it was. (And how necessary such an armored vehicle is at prom in Wisconsin. Seriously.)
If I think of more teen-induced epiphanies, I'll add to the list.
Friday, July 17, 2009
"Ever Wonder Why We're Here?"
I don't usually ask myself that question. Never been that philosophical. In the end, we're here. So at the most have a good time, and at the very least get massively cynical and capture the inner monologues on something like this, if not for posterity than at least to laugh at later.
Words are like a sandbox for me. (This is, in fact, the segway to a metaphor. You can get used to it, or get gone, cuz I do this A LOT.) I can make whatever the hell I want, talk circles around an idea and make no progress building anything of substance, or get serious and sculpt together something clever that I can be proud of. Here, the former is highly more likely.
Only with words could I consider myself 'free' while writing constrained in a little pixelated box. Words are cool like that.
If by now you have realized that this first post was going to be awkward no matter what, and that I really just wrote it to screw around with the formatting options on this thing, then bravo. Welcome to my world.
Words are like a sandbox for me. (This is, in fact, the segway to a metaphor. You can get used to it, or get gone, cuz I do this A LOT.) I can make whatever the hell I want, talk circles around an idea and make no progress building anything of substance, or get serious and sculpt together something clever that I can be proud of. Here, the former is highly more likely.
Only with words could I consider myself 'free' while writing constrained in a little pixelated box. Words are cool like that.
If by now you have realized that this first post was going to be awkward no matter what, and that I really just wrote it to screw around with the formatting options on this thing, then bravo. Welcome to my world.
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