Yeah, I go for days without a single post, and put up two for today.  Go figure!

We’ve been working at the post office nights and have been having a pretty good time.  I find the work to be pretty decent (I’m on my feet a lot and moving), not difficult at all, and I find the supervisors and the plant manager to be easygoing, flexible and reasonable people.  What more could I ask for?

I’m amazed at what people mail, and how they mail it.

We’re working in the “hub” where nothing but Priority Mail goes through — and, this time of year that means packages, packages, packages.  We’ve seen stuff packed in Kleenex boxes, pampers boxes, grocery bags and what appears to be a duct tape wrap job (in its entirety).  I saw a toy inflated duck with an address label across his neck and postage on top of his head — he was still inflated.

My feet are killing me by the end of the shift but, other than that, I’m none the worse for wear — other than the fact that I’m pretty tired.  I apply some Blue Stop to my feet, take three Motrin and go to bed and by morning, I’m healed up and ready to run another day.

And here’s a no-shitter for you.  There’s this guy who is a real flaming asshole who works in the sorting line with me.  He’s a dickhead asshat fucktard, if that gives you any idea of how I view him.  Anyway, I found out last night that his first name is Puthy and his last name is Ho.  His first name is pronounced Poo-tee.  If I had to live with a name like Pootie Ho, I’d be an asshole too!  LOL!

Since I wasn’t working on Tuesday, I agreed to stay late on Monday night (as did Lisa) and we were there until 3:30 AM.  Our supervisor calls us (along with 4 other folks) “…my ace in place.”  She’s served notice to other supervisors that they can’t have us for any reason.  That’s fine with me — I like what we’re doing.  There’s a lot of bending and lifting of packages but, surprisingly, very few are actually really heavy. 

So, what am I getting out of this besides $11.34 an hour?  My arm muscles are getting toned already.  The jeans that I wore on Monday that were tight are now already falling down my hips making me have to keep hoisting them back up.  I’m not sitting on my ass at home drinking wine, watching television, and getting fatter.

Yeah, I’m pooped out but surprisingly enough, it’s a good sort of pooped out.  And, I’m having fun to boot.

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