And Now Our Night Shift Begins

, , , | Working | March 25, 2020

I used to live with my parents just outside of a small town about thirty minutes away from where I live now. When I lived with my parents, I moved to the night shift at work, because it’s a shorter shift and still gives me freedom to get stuff done during the day.

December of 2018, I move into a house with my now fianceé and her mother. It’s not the greatest part of town — a group of kids between 12 and 18 recently went around and robbed stores and carjacked two cars at gunpoint, to give an example — but it’s the only house we can get a loan for, and we are desperate.

I’m still working the night shift, and three times now I’ve had to call into work because of gunshots nearby, and police have been looking for suspects. This third time, my supervisor asks me if this is real, so I tell him the general area of where I live, and then I tell him to watch the news the next day. Sure enough, it’s on the news the next evening about someone found dead in a suspected drug-related incident, and the police are looking for suspects. My supervisor pulls me aside to ask me if I want to switch to day shifts.

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