Peanut Butter

Man, that fog was wicked thick out there this morning.  As thick as peanut butter.  

Heh, I posted that on the book of faces, and one of my oldest childhood friends responded with a photo of Yukon Cornelius.  I knew she wouldn't let me down.  

Anyway, I knew it would be foggy, as we'd been under an advisory since sometime yesterday, but man...I couldn't see anything.  I was driving down 51 Highway -- for you local folks -- and I didn't know where I was.  All I could see was dense fog.  I couldn't see the road, or the houses on the sides of the roads or signs or anything.  Maybe two feet of road in front of the car, and that was it. 

Finally, I got to where I could see the lights of the Ol' Corner Store -- for you local folks -- and that was the first time I even had an inkling of my location.   It was a relief to get my bearings and to know where I was.  

Then I had to turn onto Riverdale Road -- for you local folks.  That was an adventure in itself.  The whole way down that road, I was praying non stop, "Please don't be deer on this road!  Please don't be deer on this road!"  Fortunately, I made it all the way down the road without hitting a deer.

Then I got to the railroad tracks...and this curve.

Image courtesy of Google Earth

There are no lights on that section of the road.  There are no lines on that section of the road.  I was praying -- again, or should I say still -- that I wouldn't drive off of the road and down into the ditch.    

I didn't, and made it to work safely, and all the talk of the morning was the fog.  Everyone was saying the same thing, how they couldn't see and were afraid to hit deer, and one of my coworkers had had a headlight go out.  She said, "I already couldn't see!"  But eventually the sun came up and the fog burned off and talk turned to other matters at hand. 

The question all week has been whether we're back on five days, but nobody seemed to know.  Finally, someone asked Group Leader Shark, and she didn't know, either.  She said she'd asked Inspector Gadget, but he didn't know either.  He said they were going to have a meeting today to decide and they'd let us know. 

Sure enough, right around lunch time, they put out the notice that we are indeed working Friday.  About an  hour after that, HR put out an email that said we are back on our regular five day schedule.  No word yet about Saturdays, though.  One of the parts stagers told me she's over working Saturdays.  

I said, "Yeah, but that's where I get the money I'm saving to fix up my house."  She replied, "I'd like to have the money without having to work to get it!"  So I suggested we move to Minnesota and open up a fake day care.  

OK, moving right along...I don't think I could get by in Minnesota anyway.  Not just because it's cold, but back when I was in the Navy, I once had a bunkmate who was from Minnesota and I'm not kidding, we could not understand each other. It's like we were speaking two separate languages.  

They have strange accents up in the far North.  

By the way, I found out this week that we have a recruiter out at the plant.  Seriously?  A recruiter?  Funny how fast they went from having "a line of people a mile long waiting to get on out here, we don't need you" to needing a recruiter because they can't find anyone who wants to work there. 

That's what happens when you treat your prisoners like garbage.

Oh, did I say prisoners?  I mean employees...just a little Freudian slip, there...