It’s 2 pm.
There’s phone chatter on the floor, fingers tapping on keyboards, a high speed printer spitting out copies, and the hum of florescent ceiling lights providing percussion.
The Modern Manufacturing Plant. And my Home away from Home.
I’ve been anchored to my seat since 5:30 am – an 8-hour shift and the meter continues to run.
I shift uncomfortably left, then right. The lower back groans. My step counter reports 1,704 steps, 8,296 steps short of the daily target. But it’s not enough, not nearly enough to get me up and around and moving. This soul’s chained to the wheel, with Kyo Maclear’s “pessimistic disposition, a perfectionist quality mixed with a sense of inadequacy…striving leading to suffering.” My rocket fuel. Sucking on its straw, tanks strapped on tight, wired for production, banged up, leading Lombardi’s sweep, 4 yards in a cloud of dust.
I’m finishing up a telephone conversation and the phone cuts out. [Read more…]