Picspam! And GIP
So I got bored at work earlier this week, and actually had the digicam with me for once. Ever wonder what it's like to be a blue-collar worker at a plastic injection molding facility?
Now I'm assigned to a certain press everyday. (The press is what injects the molten plastic into the mold and against the fabric, then cools it so it can be retrieved by a robot and given to us for the detail work.) My particular press is called 720-4. My technical position is welder, left-hand side. And this is what I see every day.
This is my side table, where I can set my parts to be run through the assembly welder after I've finished with them. (My side's the side with the fewer parts on it; Sarena, the right-hand welder, was kind of goofing off at the time and her parts got piled up.) That's Erin in the background, making some horrible face because she realized I'd gotten out my camera.
This is the view from my station, standing exactly where I do every day. (Have you noticed the repetitiveness of my job? It can get a bit repetitive. :P ) That's the packer's table, empty bins, and another press in the background. Awe-inspiring, isn't it?
The tools of my trade. My hand welder, utlity knife, and that wadded-up cottony-looking thing is my buff pad - used to get scratches and flaws off the fabric. That welder is also the thing I've burned my boob with on numerous occasions. We've made peace since, but it's still giving me junior-age carpal tunnel syndrome. *groan*
More crap Honda parts, waiting to be put through the Parker welder. And of course, the obligatory caffeinated beverage - this one happens to belong to Russell, our trim dye operator. Third shift is, in my opinion, the shift that survives on Red Bulls and Stackers. Or Diet Pepsi, in Russell's case. :P
Speaking of the trim dye, there it is in all its evil glory. It takes that great big friggin' thing to cut off the excess fabric from the parts so we can start the welding process. And it's a lot harder to man than it looks. (It's like a run around a 10-mile track... but you only go in a five-foot circle.) In other words, it blows.
And now for the fun part: the motley crew of 720-4...
This is our trim guy, Russell. He's currently displaying for you his patented Pervy-Stalker-Watching-You-From-A-Van smile, which comes in varying degrees of creepy. XD He's actually awesome as hell, if not a bit sweaty at times.
This is Erin, our packer, who gives the parts a final once-over and puts them in the bins. Erin no likey the digicam. Which is amazing, considering how LOUD and outgoing she usually is. One of our maintenance guys says she looks like a twelve-year-old boy. ... Er, well, she is rather small and flat-chested... She's the youngest, and by far the craziest, member of our press.
Sarena, my fellow welder and partner in crime. She looks just ridiculously happy to be there, doesn't she? (Actually, I think she was sleep-deprived at the time.) She has a laugh that is identical to that of Elmo from Sesame Street. It's rather disturbing, truth be told.
And last but not least, yours truly, expressing my opinion of my job. Like the dark circles under my eyes? Sarena wasn't the only sleep-deprived one. And look! I get my name on my shirt! Yay!
Sarena hard at work, trimming the excess fabric off a part.
Me, manning my hand welder and pretending not to look like a big prat. I had my hair in girly pig tails that day, so I'm sure I look even more ridiculous. You can even see my eyebrow piercing and my cartiledge piercing, because I'm such a rebel. Or something. *snort*
And finally, to prove to you that I truly do absolutely nothing of importance, me goofing off with Russell. Those are a stylish pair of safety goggles I'm wearing that me and Sarena previously jazzed up with some black foam strips. (Hence the silly Mr. Roboto-esque square eyes.) Needless to say, I am a complete and utter dork. But you all love me anyway. ;P
Does anyone know of any RPs looking for a Draco? I've finally enough time on my hands to pick up maybe one RP, and I'd so love to have my snarky little darling back. ♥
Now I'm assigned to a certain press everyday. (The press is what injects the molten plastic into the mold and against the fabric, then cools it so it can be retrieved by a robot and given to us for the detail work.) My particular press is called 720-4. My technical position is welder, left-hand side. And this is what I see every day.
This is my side table, where I can set my parts to be run through the assembly welder after I've finished with them. (My side's the side with the fewer parts on it; Sarena, the right-hand welder, was kind of goofing off at the time and her parts got piled up.) That's Erin in the background, making some horrible face because she realized I'd gotten out my camera.
This is the view from my station, standing exactly where I do every day. (Have you noticed the repetitiveness of my job? It can get a bit repetitive. :P ) That's the packer's table, empty bins, and another press in the background. Awe-inspiring, isn't it?
The tools of my trade. My hand welder, utlity knife, and that wadded-up cottony-looking thing is my buff pad - used to get scratches and flaws off the fabric. That welder is also the thing I've burned my boob with on numerous occasions. We've made peace since, but it's still giving me junior-age carpal tunnel syndrome. *groan*
More crap Honda parts, waiting to be put through the Parker welder. And of course, the obligatory caffeinated beverage - this one happens to belong to Russell, our trim dye operator. Third shift is, in my opinion, the shift that survives on Red Bulls and Stackers. Or Diet Pepsi, in Russell's case. :P
Speaking of the trim dye, there it is in all its evil glory. It takes that great big friggin' thing to cut off the excess fabric from the parts so we can start the welding process. And it's a lot harder to man than it looks. (It's like a run around a 10-mile track... but you only go in a five-foot circle.) In other words, it blows.
And now for the fun part: the motley crew of 720-4...
This is our trim guy, Russell. He's currently displaying for you his patented Pervy-Stalker-Watching-You-From-A-Van smile, which comes in varying degrees of creepy. XD He's actually awesome as hell, if not a bit sweaty at times.
This is Erin, our packer, who gives the parts a final once-over and puts them in the bins. Erin no likey the digicam. Which is amazing, considering how LOUD and outgoing she usually is. One of our maintenance guys says she looks like a twelve-year-old boy. ... Er, well, she is rather small and flat-chested... She's the youngest, and by far the craziest, member of our press.
Sarena, my fellow welder and partner in crime. She looks just ridiculously happy to be there, doesn't she? (Actually, I think she was sleep-deprived at the time.) She has a laugh that is identical to that of Elmo from Sesame Street. It's rather disturbing, truth be told.
And last but not least, yours truly, expressing my opinion of my job. Like the dark circles under my eyes? Sarena wasn't the only sleep-deprived one. And look! I get my name on my shirt! Yay!
Sarena hard at work, trimming the excess fabric off a part.
Me, manning my hand welder and pretending not to look like a big prat. I had my hair in girly pig tails that day, so I'm sure I look even more ridiculous. You can even see my eyebrow piercing and my cartiledge piercing, because I'm such a rebel. Or something. *snort*
And finally, to prove to you that I truly do absolutely nothing of importance, me goofing off with Russell. Those are a stylish pair of safety goggles I'm wearing that me and Sarena previously jazzed up with some black foam strips. (Hence the silly Mr. Roboto-esque square eyes.) Needless to say, I am a complete and utter dork. But you all love me anyway. ;P
Does anyone know of any RPs looking for a Draco? I've finally enough time on my hands to pick up maybe one RP, and I'd so love to have my snarky little darling back. ♥