Good morning, at least I think it’s morning – things have a tendency to run together lately. Today is the end of my second week working here and I wasn't sure I'd get through last night. It was the first time several of us were assigned the entire place, not just our training area. Yes, that's because we'd been doing well, our "numbers" were on target. However . . . .
This picture shows just a tiny, tiny part of one of the fulfillment centers. Last night I think I covered just a small part of it—but my little pedometer read 7.8 miles this morning. The picking procedure is, simplified: 1) find the area, a challenge in itself 2) find the bin 3) scan the bin number 4) if needed, open the box (or boxes) 5) scan the barcode on the item/items 6) drop it/them in the tote 7) when the tote is full (or too heavy), put it on a conveyor belt. 8) repeat over and over and over . . .for ten hours, upstairs, downstairs, in my lady’s parlor. By the middle of last night, every part of my body hurt so badly I almost cried but had to keep going for more and more and more hours, until 3:30 a.m. Drag myself out of bed around noon to prepare to do it again tonight. The only thing I think about is the money and that it’s only until Christmas. Then I never have to do it again, ever! First paycheck this morning. Talking with other workampers here, most of them have been counting the days for a long time. We work and sleep, that’s about it. Watching people at breaks or lunch, the first thing most of us do is pull out the Ibuprofen or Aleve or Advil bottles.
On Dec. 24, I'm getting the heck out of Dodge and heading someplace warmer to SIT and watch the sky, the river, and so forth.