Hard Road
"Don't forget to sleep," I tell him as I'm going out the door to work. At 8 am, he's been home less than an hour after an hour long commute, and he's still working. There are schedules to arrange and payroll to approve, email and phone calls to answer and figurative fires to put out. Remembering to sleep is a real concern.
During the holiday buying season, his company is at its busiest, and the shipping operation he manages at two warehouses is the focal point of that activity. There are hordes of temporary workers to train and to inspire to care about a job that demands attention to details and a quick pace. There are daily struggles with equipment and technology, delivery schedules and personalities under pressure. The business goes around the clock this time of year. Managers and supervisors have divided up the shifts so there's always someone in each warehouse to guide the workflow and respond to the inevitable crises. My husband chose the third shift.
He Chose It.
So, he leaves the house most nights around 6 or 7 and tries to return shortly before I leave for work at 8 in the morning. He doesn't always make it. There have been days as long as 18 hours, when he returns so worn out that he falls asleep within minutes of sitting down on the couch. Seven days a week, he works overnight, frequently skipping "lunch", just to make sure things run smoothly. If I'm lucky, I see him for an hour or two while he's awake. It's rough on me and anyone else who might want to see him in this season of family and friends. We miss him, but more than that, we worry.
The flipped sleep cycle and the nonstop work pace do strange things to a person. It's not unusual for him to nap a few hours, then jump out of bed insisting he's got work that won't wait until he's due to go in. I've had to threaten to hide his keys to keep him from driving off when he's certain he's slept enough in an hour. It wasn't surprising for him to call me at work while sleeping to tell me he's making tacos for my birthday. Sleep talk outbursts about making the truck or pick rates leak out of restless dreams. Still, he comes home exhausted each day and still finds more work he can do from home. The job has totally consumed him. One of his friends called the other day just to ask, not joking, if he was still alive.
But it's temporary. I keep telling myself that. He keeps telling me, and tells his kids and brothers and parents who are all concerned as well. Sometimes, we choose the hard road and go through a rough patch for a good reason. This dedication is what makes his company successful and ensures that he and his coworkers have jobs through the year. There is another reason, too. He and the other managers took the longer hours so that the supervisors they manage could work closer to normal length shifts. He picked the killer night shift because the others have younger children who might want to see both their parents during the holidays. He chose this suffering so others could go to school plays and take their kids to see Santa and create the kind of family memories he's been blessed with.
So, I'll do my best to make sure he takes care of himself as much as he can, but I'll try to be patient as I wait for the shopping crush to ease and schedules to return to normal. I'll find a way because I know this is temporary, and sometimes you have to choose the hard road so somebody else doesn't have to.
During the holiday buying season, his company is at its busiest, and the shipping operation he manages at two warehouses is the focal point of that activity. There are hordes of temporary workers to train and to inspire to care about a job that demands attention to details and a quick pace. There are daily struggles with equipment and technology, delivery schedules and personalities under pressure. The business goes around the clock this time of year. Managers and supervisors have divided up the shifts so there's always someone in each warehouse to guide the workflow and respond to the inevitable crises. My husband chose the third shift.
He Chose It.
So, he leaves the house most nights around 6 or 7 and tries to return shortly before I leave for work at 8 in the morning. He doesn't always make it. There have been days as long as 18 hours, when he returns so worn out that he falls asleep within minutes of sitting down on the couch. Seven days a week, he works overnight, frequently skipping "lunch", just to make sure things run smoothly. If I'm lucky, I see him for an hour or two while he's awake. It's rough on me and anyone else who might want to see him in this season of family and friends. We miss him, but more than that, we worry.
The flipped sleep cycle and the nonstop work pace do strange things to a person. It's not unusual for him to nap a few hours, then jump out of bed insisting he's got work that won't wait until he's due to go in. I've had to threaten to hide his keys to keep him from driving off when he's certain he's slept enough in an hour. It wasn't surprising for him to call me at work while sleeping to tell me he's making tacos for my birthday. Sleep talk outbursts about making the truck or pick rates leak out of restless dreams. Still, he comes home exhausted each day and still finds more work he can do from home. The job has totally consumed him. One of his friends called the other day just to ask, not joking, if he was still alive.
But it's temporary. I keep telling myself that. He keeps telling me, and tells his kids and brothers and parents who are all concerned as well. Sometimes, we choose the hard road and go through a rough patch for a good reason. This dedication is what makes his company successful and ensures that he and his coworkers have jobs through the year. There is another reason, too. He and the other managers took the longer hours so that the supervisors they manage could work closer to normal length shifts. He picked the killer night shift because the others have younger children who might want to see both their parents during the holidays. He chose this suffering so others could go to school plays and take their kids to see Santa and create the kind of family memories he's been blessed with.
So, I'll do my best to make sure he takes care of himself as much as he can, but I'll try to be patient as I wait for the shopping crush to ease and schedules to return to normal. I'll find a way because I know this is temporary, and sometimes you have to choose the hard road so somebody else doesn't have to.
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