Going Postal: Day 6

lucy-stamp.jpgDAY 6: Back to the House of Pain

The good news is that today the pain threshold only hit about a 95. I also figured out why my finger was hurting so bad. Most of the mail that gets sorted is bundled in these big sacks, which are then sealed with a strap and metal latch. There is a certain way to do this that ends up putting a ton of pressure on the index finger, and after a while it hurts so bad you can’t even use it to pick out the black boogers caused by all the dust in the building. The last time I hurt my finger like this I was playing a little game called “tickling the cooch” with an old girlfriend, when her excitement level got a bit out of control. Unfortunately, sacking mail is nothing like tickling the cooch.

I spent nearly nine hours “sweeping.” I hate sweeping. And when I say I “hate sweeping,” what I really mean is, “I FUCKING HATE SWEEPING!!!” It is hard to describe what sweeping is like. Luckily, I have a video that sort of gets the point across. Watch this video before you read any further.

Okay, so that’s what sweeping is like…except it isn’t funny. And instead of chocolate, you’re dealing with 70 pound sacks of mail. I swear, people must be mailing shit like bricks wrapped in steel. How the fuck can you get 40 or 50 pounds of anything into some thing smaller than a shoebox?

The state of Alaska has a population of just under 700,000. Last night I sorted, sacked and hauled at least two packages for every man, woman and child currently residing in Alaska. And I swear that each person got at least one of those steel-wrapped bricks I was talking about.

Around one in the morning, the supervisor came and asked a group of us who was willing to stick around to 3:30. Me being fat, slow and stupid, I was not able to say “not me” quick enough, so me and this cat from Vietnam—who was equally slow—got stuck at work until 4 in the morning. Don’t ask what we did, it will only make you jealous. Thankfully, I have the next two days off.



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