Like The Bunny With The Drum

I worked for 13 hours today.

Good night.

Appreciation

Joe is a great guy, but he's not much of a photographer. Here's the one picture that looks okay after a ton of post-processing in GIMP.



What I'm doing here is clamping the barset to the shell of the rotor. Once the barset is clamped, I weld it to the shell through those slots you see on the inside. Today I finished attaching the barsets, sealed gaps at the top and bottom, squirted brazing paste in all the right places, and crossed my fingers. It'll go in the furnace tomorrow and we'll see how it comes out on Monday.

Today's conversations with the supervisors made me feel even better. They really, really like me. They said things like, "the next time we have a meeting [with the bosses] about this project, you're going to be there. We want your input."

I told them about three weeks ago that I'd like to switch to second shift after I graduate in January, and they're fine with that, but they said they hoped I'd reconsider. They really want me on first shift so I can work with them instead of just finishing up whatever the person I train will have done earlier in the day. They even said that they could work out a special schedule for me (because my primary reason for wanting to go on second shift is so I don't have to get up before dawn... it's bad for my brain function, which is screwy as it is) so I can come in at, say, 9am and stay until 5 or 6pm. That's how much they want me on this project.

I have never felt so appreciated. It's awesome.

I promise to stop gushing soon. Really.

That's Amore

I love my job.

I love being able to work on this big, unusual part all by myself. I love having the supervisors come over and tell me I'm doing a great job. I love hearing, "wow, you've gotten a lot done today!" I love knowing that my bosses appreciate me and have confidence in me.

Joe and Paul stopped by my table yesterday on their way to a meeting, looked at my work (I might have pictures soon), and told me that I was doing really well. Then Joe turned to Paul and said, "I told you so. I told you that putting her over here was a good idea."

Have I mentioned that I love my job?

I'm coming into the home stretch on the rotor. I have two more barsets (of 24) to attach to the cone, and then I can go around the top and bottom edges to seal the ends of the barsets. After that, I think it'll be ready to be pasted and go in the furnace. And that's when I'll cross my fingers and try to remember to breathe so my head doesn't explode while I wait to see if everything holds.

Wish me luck!

Coming Soon

I haven't forgotten about the blog. I've just been very busy, very tired, and utterly incapable of turning memory into prose in any sort of comprehensible way.

I use big words when I'm a zombie, apparently.

New entry coming soon, I promise.

Cut and Cut Short

Now that I'm working on the conical rotor, I can have as much overtime as I want, so I worked an extra three hours yesterday and came in today. Joe and I were the only ones who showed up, so it was blissfully quiet in the shop. I got two barsets finished and another assembled before Joe came over and told me that we had to leave.

Um. What?

He'd hit forty hours on Thursday, but needed to finish some important CAD work, which was the only reason he was in today. He finished his work in a little over two hours and didn't want to hang around doing nothing and not getting paid for it (he's salaried, so he doesn't get overtime pay), so he decided to send me home and close up the shop. As compensation, he signed off on four hours of work on my time card. Two hours at home while earning time and a half? I'm happy with that.

I also managed to injure myself today. In the conical barsets, there's one blade that needs some powerful persuasion before it will fit in its spot. (Read: I need to whale on the thing with a hammer until it pops into place.) I was beating the blade with the hammer, and the hammer slipped. It hit my finger, pushing it along the edge of the blade. Ow. Ow, ow, ow. I ran to the med kit, grabbed some antiseptic spray and a bandage, ran my finger under cold water for a minute, sprayed it, and wrapped it up. It stings a little, but I'll be fine.

As a reward for a) getting a job, 2) getting a bank account, and c) surviving my life-threatening boo-boo, I stopped at Bob's on my way home and got a spiffy new Carhartt jacket. I'm going to be toasty this winter.

Movin' On Up

My classmate Dan, who just started on Monday, has been working on our big, important, overdue project: the conical. He's been going too slow for management's liking, and he hasn't really been enjoying the pressure and responsibility thrust on him in his first week with the company. We talked about it during lunch today, and both admitted that we'd like to switch jobs. He wants to do my mindless, repetitive barsets, and I want to do the unusual and exciting conical. I asked him if he wanted me to talk to Joe, and he said he'd think about it.

While Chuck and I were running sheets through the Timesaver, Paul came over and asked me how things were going. I told him that I enjoy what I'm doing, but Dan seemed to be unhappy, and I wondered if we might swap tasks. He thought for a minute and then said no, we were fine where we were. Okay, no problem, I figured it was worth a shot.

Five minutes later, Joe and Paul came up to me and told me to come into the office with them. After a moment of panic, I remembered that I've been doing my job, the guys like me, and I shouldn't have anything to worry about. I was right. Joe explained that Dan wasn't moving quickly enough and had expressed his dislike for the project, so they wanted to know if I'd like to take his place.

In my head: Oh my gods! Seriously?!? Hell yes!!!

Out of my mouth: "Absolutely."

So I'm the new Special Projects person. No change in title or pay, but because this order is so overdue, I can have as much overtime as I want just to get the darned thing finished. Plus, I get to work with filler wire, which is what I love most when it comes to TIG welding. Until now, the only wire work I've been doing has been patching cracked plates for Mike, and while that's fun, it's only once or twice a day for a minute or two. This is going to be more-or-less constant for as long as it takes to get the set finished.

I am ecstatic. And exhausted. G'night.

Just A Girl

Today was eventful. Melvin nearly amputated my ear, Chuck accused me of talking too much, and I was informed that welding is a man's job. Two of these things happened as a result of the really annoying job we had to do today.

Most blades will pop out of their sheets fairly easily when you apply a little torque. The blades we had today? Not so much. They were big blades in relatively thick sheets, and over half of them had a sort of tab-like thing at the end that made breaking out more than two at a time nearly impossible. (On most jobs, I can grab at least four or five blades at a time.)

Now, Chuck has been with the company for over three years, and even he was complaining to Melvin about how difficult this set was to break out. I gave up a few sheets in and asked Chuck if I could start building sets while he broke out blades, and he said that was fine. He made a few comments about "the girl" not being able to do the tough jobs, but I've gotten used to him joking around like that, so I run with it and play the "weak little girl" card when I want help with something.

Melvin came over while we were enjoying our verbal ping-pong and joined in. "I don't want to seem prejudiced," he said, "but this really is a man's job." I wasn't sure if he was serious, but I laughed as if he had told a joke and rolled my eyes as soon as he turned his back. Chuck went over and talked to him a few minutes later, and apparently Melvin said that I didn't belong in the shop; I should be in the office. Again, I'm not sure if he was serious, but Chuck and I both thought it was hilarious.

We kept complaining about how hard it was to break out this set every time Melvin walked by, and finally, when Chuck was holding the next-to-last sheet, Melvin got sick of the bitching. He grabbed the sheet and started slamming it against the edge of the table over and over again. Melvin is usually a pretty mild guy, so this violent action was totally out of character for him. The really scary thing was that when he started doing this, blades went flying everywhere, including next to my head. He explained that this was the way a former employee used to break out difficult sets. Chuck and I spent the next five minutes laughing and assuring each other that losing an ear wouldn't a big deal. Not at all. Got two of 'em for a reason, after all.

Because I've finally gotten used to Chuck's singular brand of humor, I'm comfortable playing along and tossing it back at him. He spent my first two weeks talking about how he wanted to break me out of my shell, and now that I'm not afraid to joke around with him, I think he's eating his words. He was mock-boasting about how he'd astound people with his skills if he came to my school, and I told him that my instructors would put him in his place pretty quickly. He leaned around the welding booth and said, "woman, you talk too much!" I'm taking that as a good sign.

Tomorrow is payday. Huzzah!