Ok. This is fun. I did 75 hours last week, and hopefully won't have any reason not to fly back as scheduled on Wednesday. But ugh.

We're sitting in this dinky little room about the size of two UC bedrooms (Matt knows what I'm talking about, and he can translate for everyone else) that is the only heated room in the building.

This is a Sara Lee facility for, um, pig products. If I really wanted to, I bet I could find out what parts are used for hot dogs. I don't want to.

Luckily I've been working in the cooler/freezer where they store the finished product before shipping it. But going in/out of the facility, yuck. It reeks like whoa. I hate it. I have barely been able to stop myself from throwing up. I dry heave all the way to the car.

So once we're in this little room, the only light we have is a small flourescent. The warehouse part is dark. And we've been in there for 10+ hours a day.

Then, we get to the client. We gave them two entire months to test it using their actual operators. So what happens? Oh, we get to that part on friday night. And what do they do? Oh, that's lovely - they do things completely different than the client specified us to make it work, and it breaks. Yay! Time for no weekend off for me!

Oh, not to mention, if they had let me write the particular functions my own way back in december, instead of forcing me to adapt their old disgusting convoluted crap, this wouldn't be a problem at all.

So here I am, stuck in this small town in Mississippi, where everything closes at 9, and all we ever do is eat fast food and so I'm almost constantly feeling sick to my stomach, not to mention my allergies have been hell, and I haven't slept well, doing this stupid crap because the company I work for is close-minded and wants to program like it is still the 70s and the client is retarded and left everything until the last minute and doesn't provide us what we need.

So the next time you have some Sara Lee ham, or a Ballpark Frank, or some other pig product that is owned by Sara Lee, just think - I had to go through a week and a half of hell to get you that product :-p

They own Hanes, too. Why can't I be working with ladies' underwear?  

I HATE THIS FREAKING PLACE.

This is a Sara Lee facility for, um, pig products. If I really wanted to, I bet I could find out what parts are used for hot dogs. I don't want to.

After Matt (my husband the truck driver, not Matt the mystical nerdy comic artist) started delivering to the Maxwell House factory in Houston, I swore I would never ever drink decaffienated coffee again in my life.

You don't want to know what chemicals they use to decaffeinate coffee beans, but suffice to say, they are poisonous and he had to put one of those skull plaques on his truck when he made the deliveries.

They own Hanes, too. Why can't I be working with ladies' underwear?  

Yes, but what if what you saw made you afraid, or disgusted, of Ladies' underwear?