Gut Rumbles
 

February 06, 2008

Power outage

Originally published June 24, 2003

Tomorrow is the annual plant shitdown where we kill EVERYTHING and do the work you can do only once per year. This will be my 18th P.O.D. where I was intricately involved in the scheduling, shutdown and startup of the plant.

I've done everything I could this year to make it nasty, brutish and short. That's the best you can hope for on a Power Outage. If you DON'T plan well, you end up with a combination of a goat-fuck while a screeching monkey humps a football and the sky falls on your head. That gets ugly. I've seen it happen.

I kept copious notes over the years about what NOT TO FORGET, but I laundered them to sawdust right after the last P.O.D. by attempting to do my laundry without taking everything out of my pants pockets. My Notebook of Knowledge evaporated. 18 years of written lore ended up stuck as bits of chewed paper in the dryer filter. This year, I had to do it from memory.

But I'm not senile yet.

If I fuck this up, I deserve to be fired. It's my goddam job to get this shit right. If I don't know what to do after 18 years of doing it, they need to jettison me and reload. Call bullshit all you want to, but I can do it from memory. I ain't no virgin.

If I sing a different tune tomorrow, that's because I'm not as smart as I think I am. But if I crow, give me credit.

I have the easiest job in the world when everything runs right. If it's running PERFECTLY, I don't do anything. I get paid for knowing what to do when things DON'T run right. I get paid for handling days like tomorrow. And I earn every cent I make FOR THE YEAR in those situations.

That's why I'll be at work at 4:30 in the morning and stay until all the jobs are done. I planned it all. I'll be there until everything is complete.

If I'm not home before dark, I fucked up.

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