So Tantalizingly Out Of Reach

I work six days a week - every week. Being the type of person who works to live and not the type who lives to work, I sometimes resent the whole every Saturday thing. But I get up and go - every Saturday.

A lot of times we're done packing at a decent time. Today, we were done at 2:30.

Just early enough for me to start getting excited. But first, I have to wait for the shipper to clear the floor. The single, no family and possibly no friends shipper.

The dilemma is, I want to help him out. I mean of course I do, since the faster his work gets done the sooner I'm out of there. But if I help him out he starts yakking. Apparently he can't walk and chew gum at the same time, or at least he can't work and talk at the same time.

I've had him actually turn the lift truck off climb down and give me a demonstration of what 20/60 or 60/20 or who gives a fuck vision is. It pretty much boiled down to objects may appear closer than they are. I have no idea if this is the true definition or not - mainly because I don't give a shit.

I keep checking the time on my phone. It's moving fast, I sure wish my shipper would.

Finally he's almost done, except he completely stops working to tell me how the rules for emission testing diesel engines have changed and he might have to say goodbye to his car. Again, I really don't give a shit.

Finally at 3:45 - yeah that's right, 1hr 15 minutes to load a single trailer - he's done.

I ran a few errands and arrived home at 4:30.

I've decided Saturday afternoon naps are forever out of my reach. Thanks Swinger Dude.

How about a pity vote for my lost nap? Go vote for me at Circle of Mom's Top 25 Funny Mom's contest. Maybe get your friends and family to vote too - since I'm nowhere near my goal of making it into the top 100. You can vote your favorites every day until February 13th. 

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