Graveyard Tripping

     

          The training was carried out in a large room in the back corner of the workroom floor. Windows lined the walls, offering a panoramic view of the hundreds of cubicles outside. A black and white clock hung in the center of the back wall. I made a point not to look at it often so each hour between breaks passed quickly. Because we took breaks at the same time, my classmates became familiar and occasionally some of us would have short, hushed conversations on the outskirts of the workroom floor. It was more social than I would be for years to come.

     Training on a computer program was silent, solitary work, but at least my mind was occupied with new information. Black and white, scanned examples of mail pieces appeared on the monitor, then disappeared after typing the correct code. If you were wrong, the program told you. Each lesson was a bit more challenging than the last, and we would have to pass a final test to move onto probation. Sometimes the trainer would interrupt our independent work to go over questions and coding rules. One day, he told us that a rule we learned on the training program had been changed. We were told to disregard the rule in favor of a new one, but not until after our final test, when we would be cut loose to code “live mail.” He said this about several other rules by the time training was over. The program was way out of date. They haven't updated it since the eighties, I thought.

     After training, we were put on a 90-day probation. Perfect attendance was required. That meant we wouldn’t pass if we were late, even once. No exceptions. We had to reach a high average typing speed and accuracy by the end, based on random samples they took of our work. We weren’t allowed to listen to music. Phones were to be turned off. No talking.

     Needless to say, it was hard to remember during probation which rules we’d learned that we needed to forget. Many new scenarios came up which were never addressed in training. They had taught us nothing about deciphering handwriting, much of which was impossible to read. Sometimes the lines were all squiggly. I imagined an old woman addressing a letter, struggling to steady her gnarled, trembling hand long enough to form each letter. I wondered how many of these letters reached their destination.

     I thought my sister's wedding was on one of my days off, but because our schedule changed from week to week, I messed up and hadn't submitted a schedule change request in time. I was strung out. After all this work and perfect attendance, I thought I would have to choose between keeping my job and attending her wedding. My mother convinced me after much debate to ask my supervisor if they would make an exception despite their policy.

      Howard, my probation supervisor, had chalk-white hair and a cantankerous look on his face. My heart pounded as I approached him in the back of the training room, full of empty chairs. He scoffed when I called my oversight "an honest mistake." But it turns out there was an exception to the rule, and in his great mercy he allowed me to start my shift that evening instead. I would be there for pictures but miss the bouquet-toss, cake, dancing, and farewell.

      Although relieved of the burdensome choice on my shoulders, I had no idea how I'd get through it. I'd never worked a graveyard before. Mormon weddings are exhausting, all-day affairs that start early in the morning, and I'd had to leave the reception to go straight to work, and then work another full shift the next day.

      I shared my plight with a few friends as we sat around the table for "hookah night." My friend Gale, a shy, nerdy hipster who also worked at the REC on an earlier shift, offered me an Adderall. It was just one of a variety of controlled substances he had at his disposal, but he truly adored this one. He often went on about how brilliant it made him. I knew he didn't have a prescription, but I didn't care. Coffee wouldn't get me through the whole night, and if my evil overlords were going to be so inflexible then I'd get through it by whatever means necessary.

      I accepted Gale's offer, and he told me that just a half or even a quarter would make it easy to stay awake through my entire shift. He explained how to carefully open the capsule, split the tiny foam-like balls, ingest a portion, and put the capsule back together.

      I decided to take it just before leaving the reception--that way it would take effect by the time I got to work. I went upstairs, gathered my change of clothes from the bridesmaid's room, took a picture with my chunky baby nephew, and said goodbye to my family. On my way out, I ran into Sister Kiisel, a member of the Mormon ward I grew up in. I smiled big and hugged her tightly. "How are you? Thank you so much for coming; it's so great to see you!" I said with remarkable warmth.

      In hindsight, that enthusiasm wasn’t warranted. Nice lady, but we were never particularly close, I'm not big on hugging, and I have social anxiety, especially with people from my past that I haven't seen in a long time. The Adderall had kicked in.

      On my drive to work, I entered a fantastic euphoria. I felt noble, inspired, and superhuman. What I was doing was incredibly brave. I didn’t just think but knew that I could change the world. The emotions were so intense that I began to cry tears of joy and gratitude. I acted on an impulse to call my oldest sister. She didn’t answer, so I left a long message expressing my deep love and empathy for what she was going through. It might have been weird. We hadn't talked much lately, but she was in the middle of a contemptuous divorce.

      I thought the pill would make me feel energized, but I had no idea I would get so high, let alone peak as I left the reception. Thankfully no one seemed to notice, and I got through the night shift like a champ and then some. As Gale promised, I was faster, more efficient, and more focused than usual, but the best part was that for the first time in a long time, I enjoyed working. It was a successful coping mechanism, but not the only one I’d try.