...I'm nearly done with this thing. The conveyor still has to go in, but I'll do that once I have the junction box dealt with; that way I can test the sensor to make sure it stops when an object reaches the end.
Also, dust collection ducts; I'll do that last. (A sander would help, too.)
I need relays for the junction box, though. I've got the sockets in and wired, but no relays to go into the sockets. *sigh*
So what does that make it now? Nine days? Yeah, nine. Imagine how quickly I could have done it if I hadn't been waiting on parts. Shit. If I'm not done with this thing tomorrow (ten days) I'll be done with it on Wednesday (eleven) assuming I don't have to wait for more parts to come in.
I wonder how long it took the other guy to build the one I'm duplicating?
* * *
No surprises here: big employers get sweetheart deals in Illinois because Pat Quinn knows which side his bread is buttered on.
* * *
I'm just going to have to accept that--in the morning--I desire nothing but the sweet release of unemployment.
Same pattern all over again: in the morning I hate the entire universe and wish it would go away; by noon I feel better, and by quitting time I'm happy as can be.
I've never had this happen to me before, though, not so consistently. But thinking back to 1990, when I started going to school and working and commuting 60 miles each way every day--it was a struggle to do it at first. It became second nature after a few months, but those first few weeks were hellish and I don't think I would have continued it if we hadn't been learning some frightfully interesting things right off the bat. (C'mon: when I bought my books, one item on the list was my own copy of Borland's Turbo Pascal 5.5. The box still graces my shelves.)
Of course, it was 60 miles, and I didn't have to be there until 8. Leaving at 7 was early enough, usually, and that meant getting up at 6 so I could leave by 7. But I was still out of the house for at least 10 hours per day--an hour up, four hours at work in the morning, four to five hours of classes in the afternoon, followed by an hour down--and ten hours was the minimum and sometimes it was more. *sigh*
After a while, the drive became trivial. It even made the four-hour drive to Cedar Rapids seem like it wasn't much of anything.
So--again--I have been here before, and I just need to get back to the point that the drive seems trivial. That'll take time; and in the meantime I'm just going to have to deal with hating the universe for a few hours each day.
And now, it's time to make dinner.