The Factory is not closed for me…

As faithful readers may remember, my job as a Quality Control Inspector at the Young Human Factory underwent a transformation this fall. I was put in charge of teaching English to members – or potential members – of the Middle School Mafia. A daunting task, but I am buoyed by the vision of them communicating without grunts, egg-flinging, and ritualistic doorbell-ringing.

For the same low price, I now deliver eight more hours a week of service AND the daily 53 minutes of preparation time was eliminated. But it has really helped my time management, since I have so little.

Weekends are not my own, nor vacations.

I had to go in two days ago because I had more panicky emails from clients having problems with their products. Luckily they were solvable, even the scariest request. The request was -and I paraphrase – “Could you send me all the work you’ve ever assigned my Young Human?” I convinced the client that the YH check off what was done and then it reduced it to 6 scanned pages.

Then with all the lifting of boxes to and from shelves overhead, I managed to twist my left shoulder out if its socket. So yesterday was a late start and a lot of time was spent on logistics, not doing the things I’d planned.

As a bonus, my colleague Mary the Dauntless pointed out that our supervisor wanted two additional tasks done every week starting in 2018. (“2018? That’s so far away and… oh.”) So my plans for next week – when The Factory shudders back to life – had to be changed and rearranged.

But today is different! I have a sling, ibuprofen, and a blanket for the two hours in which the heat shuts off in my room. And I’m bringing a vacuum bottle of coffee and a Cup of Noodles for dinner. It’ll be like camping, but without fear of bears. And as long as the Middle School Mafia cannot reach the vents to slide through the heating system, I’m not afraid of them dropping onto me from the ceiling. Because that would definitely aggravate my shoulder.


2 thoughts on “The Factory is not closed for me…

  1. How can you stand endless work? I don’t think teachers are paid enough to put up with feral kids, and there you are doing more.

    • Well, it ends in June…. Seriously, I hope things get better when I’ve written the curriculum for this new class and I teach it again next year. In the meantime, I have colleagues in the same boat.

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