I tried. In response to my Stanley Kubrick rant, a friend of mine pointed out I had never seen "Full Metal Jacket," and that I couldn't judge until I had. Forty-Five minutes. That's all I could take. I had to stop it. So maybe it's a good movie as it enters the fifth hour, but I couldn't make it that far. I'm still convinced Stanley Kubrick hated all of us. A burning hatred that kept him awake at night, staring at his ceiling. He wanted revenge. He wanted us to feel as mindless as he did all those long nights.
But enough about that. I want everyone to know I hate factory work. If I ever say that I am going to another factory job, shoot me. Please. I want a job where thinking is a requirement. Even a small thought. That's all. I couldn't do this for two more months, let alone 30 years. How these people accomplish that is beyond me. I can actually feel my brain atrophy. It's slowly turning to tapioca pudding and dripping out of my ears. That's why I wear the earplugs. My day consists of taking a car part and putting it in a rack. That is it. No more. No less. Move said car part 3 feet and put it in a rack. This takes on average 4 seconds. Then the next part comes about 10-30 seconds later. I do this for 8 hours a day, 6 days a week.
Friday a mexican worker tried to sell me some acid, marijuana, cocaine, a cable cheat box, ecstasy, and a sattelite dish. I politely refused. I said he was mexican because he kept saying "F&$^ing white people." when I wouldn't buy anything.
Friday was a long day.
Today is sunday. I'm working today because I asked to. Sunday is double pay. See the only reason I'm working in a metal plant is because it pays well. Very well. Sundays I make around $35 an hour. Not too shabby.
Still the thought comes into my head... "If I dropped this block on my hand, I'd probably break a finger... then I could go home... it's only a finger...I have nine more... I hardly even use the little one... i might even get worker's comp...." The sad thing is I'm not kidding. Even sadder is I'm not the only summer help who has had this thought. I've discussed it with others, and they agree with me. A broken finger is a small price to pay.
Those who have never done factory work are thinking to themselves, "It can't be THAT bad. I mean, there's no stress, right? It's easy work moving one part back and forth. How can you complain?"
Allow me to answer that. Saying the alphabet is easy, right? Four year olds can do it. Simple. Now imagine being forced to sit in a chair and do nothing but say the alphabet over and over for eight hours a day, six days a week, for three months.
"ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOOPQRSTUVWXYZ. ABCDEFGHIJK...."
Oh yeah, and add the fact that it's 95 degrees and humid in the room you're in. Very loud, and smelly too. Not so fun anymore, eh? You see, just because it's easy doesn't mean that doing it over and over won't drive you completely insane.
Dammit. I have to go to work in a half hour. Five more weeks... only five more weeks.
But enough about that. I want everyone to know I hate factory work. If I ever say that I am going to another factory job, shoot me. Please. I want a job where thinking is a requirement. Even a small thought. That's all. I couldn't do this for two more months, let alone 30 years. How these people accomplish that is beyond me. I can actually feel my brain atrophy. It's slowly turning to tapioca pudding and dripping out of my ears. That's why I wear the earplugs. My day consists of taking a car part and putting it in a rack. That is it. No more. No less. Move said car part 3 feet and put it in a rack. This takes on average 4 seconds. Then the next part comes about 10-30 seconds later. I do this for 8 hours a day, 6 days a week.
Friday a mexican worker tried to sell me some acid, marijuana, cocaine, a cable cheat box, ecstasy, and a sattelite dish. I politely refused. I said he was mexican because he kept saying "F&$^ing white people." when I wouldn't buy anything.
Friday was a long day.
Today is sunday. I'm working today because I asked to. Sunday is double pay. See the only reason I'm working in a metal plant is because it pays well. Very well. Sundays I make around $35 an hour. Not too shabby.
Still the thought comes into my head... "If I dropped this block on my hand, I'd probably break a finger... then I could go home... it's only a finger...I have nine more... I hardly even use the little one... i might even get worker's comp...." The sad thing is I'm not kidding. Even sadder is I'm not the only summer help who has had this thought. I've discussed it with others, and they agree with me. A broken finger is a small price to pay.
Those who have never done factory work are thinking to themselves, "It can't be THAT bad. I mean, there's no stress, right? It's easy work moving one part back and forth. How can you complain?"
Allow me to answer that. Saying the alphabet is easy, right? Four year olds can do it. Simple. Now imagine being forced to sit in a chair and do nothing but say the alphabet over and over for eight hours a day, six days a week, for three months.
"ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOOPQRSTUVWXYZ. ABCDEFGHIJK...."
Oh yeah, and add the fact that it's 95 degrees and humid in the room you're in. Very loud, and smelly too. Not so fun anymore, eh? You see, just because it's easy doesn't mean that doing it over and over won't drive you completely insane.
Dammit. I have to go to work in a half hour. Five more weeks... only five more weeks.
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