It was 6:30p when I stopped by Miguel’s office. “What’s up?” I asked.

Miguel picked his eyes up off the paper, holding his place on the schedule with a ballpoint pen. “Just going over tomorrow. It’s going to be another big day. Three special orders to get out the door.”

“Where is everyone, why are you still here?”

“Oh, we shut down at 4:30p. My crew is up with the chickens, tomorrow we start at 6:30a. I run a staggered shift. The first guys get the day started, then we’re full strength by 7:30a. The first wave is off by 3:30p, while the second wave picks up the pieces for the day.”

“Why are you still here?” I repeated.

“Well, there is just a bunch of little things that have to be done each day. Sort of out of control, huh? This won’t last forever. My schedule is getting better.”

“How long have you been working this late?”

“Gosh, ever since I became the supervisor, I guess. But it’s going to get better, soon.” Miguel looked optimistic.

I didn’t believe him.