Job Days

One of the most salient things in my life at the moment is my place of employment: Durham’s LC Industries. Part of the National Industries for the Blind, it is one of the oldest workshops in that system. We get contracts to provide goods such as clothing, bedding, and the like to the US military.

I specifically work in a section called master lock, where we participate in every part of the loch assembly process. These are the small kinds that are closed with a shackle and reopened with either a key or combination. I get the chain started, pulling the various pieces together which sometimes include a small metal chain as well as the already mentioned stuff, and placing them on a tray. The person to my immediate left them inserts the ball bearings with some sort of long, cylindrical tube. Finally, he applies some grease. I’m not certain what happens to the locks after that, though in theory I will someday know how to do every job in that section.

I write about this so that you know a little about the kind of routine I deal with. Admittedly not the most exciting thing in the world, but then when I point this out to others, they usually note a similar feeling about their own employment. It’s just one of those things one learns to do, I suppose.

I remember before my entrance into the working world, I often wondered how people managed to function with these demands. My answer seems lately to be to have my life run on a predictable program that usually doesn’t vary much.

4:15 am: feel that odd vibration on my backside. I put the cell in that pocket on a pair of shorts.

oh goodness, what’s that? I think to myself. I don’t know, but just before I roll over and drift back into a state of bliss, it occurs to me that the alarm is going off.

aaahhh!

4:45 am: All necessary morning dressing has been completed. Still in a fog, I grab my iPhone, launch the TuneIn radio app, and check the latest edition of CNN radio news day. As I do, I madly shovel down a bowl of cereal, a pop tart, leftover pizza? Whatever I can still find in that fridge.

5:15 am: time to hit the door, as the bus departs in twenty minutes. Out the door, into the street’s shoulder due to this neighborhood’s notorious lack of sidewalks, and on my way. It’s about a half mile walk, just enough to get the blood flowing to my brain. I also just recently mastered crossing that somewhat busy street by myself, which is very fortunate.

5:40 am: listen to the passengers mostly snore at that hour. I also use twitter and the local newspapers to get me caught up on what’s going on in the area.

6:00 am :arrive at Durham Station, the city’s transportation center. It’s no Grand Central Station, but there are a few people and buses moving around. I make my way to the next bus, which takes me on to the plant.

6:30 am : after clocking in, I make my way quickly to the soda machine as my nervous system is flooded with hormones in anticipation of caffeine. I can barely get the change in the slot quickly enough. I then open iBooks on my entertainment device and settle in till that evil 7:00 bell rings. And from that point, the routine is as initially described.

All things considered, I’m surprised how well I have managed to hold up. This is the first time I have held a position that requires me to work all five business days, so that took some getting used to.

Anyone with difficulty hearing understands the phenomenon where people say things right in front of you that they might not otherwise, figuring that you aren’t picking them up. This can be a good or bad thing, but lately its been quite pleasant as I heard my coworkers offering unexpected praise of my efforts. That definitely does help my morale.

So that’s today’s piece. I may set a goal, though I’m not entirely committing to it, to write a post in here every day as I did in my LiveJurnal during a significant portion of my employment in Charlotte. It helps keep the creative juices flowing. We shall see how long I go on with it.

Intro Post: Old hats may wish to skip

So I realized that since I zapped that other blog, I no longer have an intro post. This means that I should try and come up with one, right? Well its as good a time as any to examine who I am, I guess. Those who’ve known me a long time might wish to skip this post, but maybe I can make it interesting for you, too.

I was born. I’m told the day dawned cold and rainy, but I’ve also been told that it was Friday, September 13, 1979. I know that last wasn’t possible, since the calendars say the 13th was on a Thursday that year. In any event, that kinda makes for a good story.

I have a rare genetic condition called Norrie disease, which results usually in total blindness from birth due to retinal detachment. It also causes progressive hearing loss, which has been the more adjustment requiring part of things for me. It’s all good though: I have not and will never let it stop me from doing the same crazy things I always do.

Hailing from the queen city of Charlotte, I grew up in a family of five sisters. For much of my early life, my only real male influence was my cousin who is about a year younger than my 33. My dad then came into my life during teen aged years, and he has certainly taught me a lot about what it means to be a good and honorable man. And anyone should know that one doesn’t have to donate sperm in order to be a good father.

I went to high school in a small town called Southern Pines NC, and while I complained at first about being out of the city, it was probably the best thing I had done to that point. It allowed me to find myself academically.

Eventually I returned to Charlotte to attend the major university there, going on to experience even greater academic success as a psychology major. What is it that they say about psych majors needing the most therapy?

After five aimless years just working in a sheltered workshop for blind folks in Charlotte and enjoying living with my cousin, I made the somewhat random decision to attend grad school. I did this at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill where I attempted to complete an MS in rehabilitation counseling and psychology. Let’s just say all that academic prowess I thought I had pretty much went out of the window. The program was supposed to take two years to finish, but I clung to that raft as it got sucked down the raging river for almost three. It wasn’t a total waste, though. Is anything, it showed me how not to adequately prepare for such an expedition.

Is I do make another go of that, I know now that I need solid, definable goals. I’m still working those out, but part of me is longing to do something in a journalistic capacity, as I had started to consider shortly after undergrad ended. I’m not really sure how to begin taking that from dream to occurrence, though. Just doing a lot of thinking.

And now I reside in Durham NC, where I again work at a sheltered workshop. The nice thing about this one though is that there is real potential for promotion, should I choose to take that path. We shall see how it all plays out.

Of course, there’s more to me than I could easily capture in one post. If you continue to read, you’ll see lots of stuff about books I like, my favorite sports teams, (I’m all about North Carolina except for the duke Blue Devils), music I love, and not surprisingly, the places I go. Feel free to chime in with questions or suggestions whenever you like. And most of all, enjoy.