Left out at 2130. Stopped at 2145. Haven’t moved since then. It’s now 2304.
Asphalt grinds as headlights glow and fade; cars about face on a closed freeway as I grow impatient.
I call a loved one for advice in this gridlocked traffic I’ve never encountered – maybe I can glean comfort from somewhere, anywhere? This sea of autos holds no respite from my frustration and uncertainty.
2330. I should ridden the BART into work tonight, right? Except I’d have to sleep in a noisy, lit environment.
But I wouldn’t be the only package handler under cover from fluorescents that seep through eyeshades and guide employees through hallways. Not the only one using public transportation who needs to grind to pay bills.
Too late now for making this shift. I’ll certainly make my 0330 shift.
But will I even make it there by 2400?
(note: 2400 = 12:00am in military time, which is how FedEx employees use time on timecards, etc. Noting here that in standard usage we revert to 0000 after 2359, at FedEx at least. Also, ended up calling in sick that day.)