Gut Rumbles

October 15, 2009

Shift work

Originally published August 19l. 2004

I spent 24 years of the best part of my life working in a chemical plant and about half of that was done on shift work. I spent many a night out there while my friends were having parties and going to football games. I worked every weekend, except for one each month, and I turned down opportunities for free tickets to concerts, free tickets to the Georgia-Florida football game and a lot of free pussy because I had to go to work. AND I WENT TO WORK!!!

Somewhere in my vanished archives, I wrote about running out of supervisors one week and how I WENT OUT THERE and pulled midnight shifts again. I did it because the place runs 24-7, I could do the job and nobody else was available. Duty called and I answered.

I don't have "pigmenteer" as my email address for nothing. My heart pumps TiO2 instead of blood. I earned that moniker and I am proud of it. I busted my ass out there and I finally realized one day that I spent a lot more time at work than I did around my family. But I was content with that realization. If I didn't have that job, I wouldn't have the mini-farm and all the stuff that came with it. It was a fair trade.

Then, they dropped me like a hot rock. That still hurts because I CARED about that place. I KNEW that I was good at my job. I KNEW that they didn't fire me (uh... excuse me, RETIRE me) for poor performance. They did it because of words I wrote on the internet. They did it because of political correctness, which I don't abide by, but that scares the shit out of Human Resources managers.

My ex-wife is prospering among those people. I wonder why? Bloodless cunts do well in this world. Honest people don't.

That's the way it IS, baby.

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