My last class of the term was Thursday. Now I have two weeks to sleep, clean up around the house, and tend to my garden. But most of all I want to get as much sleep as possible. I’m so tired that if I could eat sleep, I would.
Working full time at the factory second shift and being a full time daytime student only allows me to catch three or two-hour naps at a time during the weekdays. If I’m lucky I’ll get five or six hours rest combined, but some days these last few weeks I’ve been operating on just two hours of sleep, cheap caffeine and Pop-Tart sugar. I’ve managed to get by, but when Saturday comes around my body crashes like a cheap PC. Even when I’ve set my alarm with the intention of waking up on those Saturday mornings just long enough to buy fresh vegetables and bagels at the Second Street Market, my body won’t have any of it.
I wonder how single parents manage.
This lack of time is why I’m still bummed about my ethics paper. I got an A and the teacher told me I did a great job. Yet I caught two typos she didn’t. If I’d gotten an A- or B+ I would’ve understood. It was good, but I knew where it could’ve been more concise. I sound like a perfectionist that’s never satisfied, and that’s partially true; but mostly I hated how long it took me to write a five page paper. I ran out of time. I was up all night and literally working on it up until the last possible minute. And I knew if only had only one more evening I could’ve edited away all the problems that bothered me. I also wanted to do a good job because I loved that ethics class and how the professor taught it. This was the first course I’ve taken that seemed like a college course, and I wanted to meet those college standards.
I have to make it through September. That’s when the factory will close second shift for good. But, heck, first shift will be shut down through the entire month of December. Rumor is that first shift and the plant will be closing for good in February, about a year earlier than originally planned.
In a way a plant closing is like learning that a longterm relationship is ending for good. There will never be a reconciliation. If a layoff is a seperation then this is a divorce.
As for me, I’m ready for it. Me and the factory? We’ve grown apart. I’ve accepted it. When I say I’ll miss the money but I’m ready for a change, it’s like saying I’ll miss the sex but it’s time to move on.
But other breakups are messy, and some coworkers are acting out their frustrations. They loudly trash talk the factory in the breakroom. They don’t show up for work. The company doesn’t care, so why should they?
Messy breakups sweep up bystanders like me into their drama, whether I want to or not. So I lend a sympathetic ear. I cover for the absentees. I just have to make it through September.
