Murphy's Law regarding a job you can't take breaks from (TMI)

I’ve worked a couple of jobs that, while the hours were fairly short, the time I did work was 100% work- not surfing the web, not leaving a text message to my girlfriend, not even going to the restroom. I was hired into these jobs knowing this, and I figured that I would simply have to plan around it to ensure I didn’t have any personal ‘emergencies’ that happened during my shift.

Of course, that just means that the 2-4 hours of the day I absolutely cannot drop what I am doing to deal with whatever is when it is going to happen. Murphy’s law, right? And so for example-

1.) Working as a Crossing Guard during a rainy morning. I was the only guard out there. I had set flares on the street to help cars see that there was an intersection ahead with children crossing. Unfortunately, I had diarrhea that morning, but I held it as best as I could because I was worried that if I left my post some little kid would get killed in a terrible accident in my absence. I was doing ok until about 10 minutes before I could leave, when I sneezed and oh so gracefully messed myself. Yet since I was still on the clock I couldn’t leave (well, nobody would have stopped me if I did, but like I said, I was worried someone would get hurt because of the road conditions/visibility if I was gone early) so I hobbled my way throught the last 10 minutes of my shift with a mess in my pants.

2.) Working at my tutoring job. This job only is about 4 hours a day, but it works out to be an incredibly busy 4 hours. So busy that I often don’t even have enough time to go to the bathroom. Because of this, I usually go immediately before I start my shift. It is also hard to take time off (we have to find a replacement, and if we can’t, which often happens, then we are kind of stuck working that day) so I sometimes wind up in the catch-22 of “why did you show up to work sick Incubus” /“You’re in big trouble for not finding a substitute while you were home sick barfing your brains out Incubus”

Regarding #1, that’s dedication. I’ve been in that place before, but I’m too young to buy Depends. Well, not really, but I refuse. Immodium A/D works great, and the generic is fine too.

That sucks about #2. If you don’t want to hear people chastise you for working sick/not working, can you call someone first? Say “I’m sick.” They’ll say “Sorry, we need you”. Then they can’t ask why you’re working sick.

It’s pretty stupid of people to ask you why you’re working sick or why you’re sick and not working. I’d pit them, but this is your OP. :slight_smile:

I picture a little girl in a winter coat looking up at you and saying "You’re a Mr. Poopy Head. Waahh! :eek:

Working the main concession stand at a 24-screen movie theater, on an incredibly hot Saturday night.

Migraine.

It was unbelievably busy that night, and I was told that if I left early, I’d be fired. When I sat down on the floor (behind the counter) and nearly passed out, they finally changed their minds (since I physically could not work).

Working in an office. Report is due in literally 20 minutes. I had drunk literally 10 cups of coffee in the past hour, and the desk was littered with cig butts.

And I was noticing the needs of another kind of butt–my OWN. A tremendous LAWG was slowly but inevitably giving birth to itself in my Calvin Kleins.

Should I run to the john–just a tantalizing 20 ft. away? But the report! Now due in just 15 minutes!

I was furiously typing, massaging PowerPoint slides and Word documents into a coherent and valuable whole. But my hole! Sweat slid down my face as my ass rose involuntarily a foot or so off my chair. I nearly burst into tears, still typing, and my sphincter entered the zone of complete relaxation. The hot dumpage proceeded to make of itself a literal “pantload.”

My thighs no longer able to maintain their Etruscan burden, my posterier hit the plush Steelcase chair, smooshing the pantload every which way within the domain of my trousers, and creating a faintly audible ploompsh. My fingers continued to type furiously. To my additional horror, an ineffable stench–a truly fecal “rebel yell”–flew from my rump in every direction. Eyebrows raised, handkerchiefs covered mouths, and cries of offense and fear could be heard.

But the report got done on time, I ran from the office, threw a newpaper on my car seat, and drove straight home.

The above is probably my biggest “TMI” story.

I was working as a security guards this summer. Generally an alright gig. My first, and one of my favotire shifts, was at a racetrack on a Saturday. The first time I was there was the first weekend of the season. Not busy at all, but the weather was cold (the last race got called due to fog). But I did like it, and it paid slightly better than most shifts, so I decided that if I was offered that post again I would take it.

A couple weeks later, I was offered it again. So of course, I took it again.

Completely different scenario. It’s busy. It’s really hot. We’re a guard short, so while we should have had a wandering guard, we don’t and there’s no one I can grab to take over for me if I need a break, or even buy me a snack. I was at the doors checking bags while a couple other women check tickets from the steady stream of people coming in. And I hadn’t eaten because I had got up not too long before leaving for work, and I hate to eat too early in the day. (I did at least have a waterbottle). I still enjoyed the shift, but it’s the closest I’ve ever come to passing out on the job.

The women with me asked me a couple times if I wanted to take a break, and I declined, because I didn’t want to abandon my post. By this point, I knew I needed it. I could feel my body slowly start to give, so I start praying that the supervisor will happen by so I can ask him to take over while I get some food. He doesn’t, so I manage as best I could. Eventually I give in to my body, and tell the ladies with me taking tickets that I’m going to the bathroom. I figured it would be better for me to take a few minutes to collect myself than to wind up fainting by the front gate, and a heck of a lot less embarassing too.

I didn’t collect myself. A woman in line behind me notices I’m not feeling well, asks me if I’ll be okay, I swallow my pride and tell her no, so she gets the paramedics. I got some oxygen, some time in an air-conditioned room, some chips and sandwiches. By the time I got back to my post the gates were about ready to close and it was cooling off. I had gotten a touch of heat-stroke, probably aggravated by the lack of food.

I truly, sincerely, hope that the report was of world-changing import and that your suffering (and that of your co-workers) was not in vain.

I can’t remember exactly (this was 3 years ago), but I think it had to do with one of HR’s program’s effect’s magnitude on sales performance, with a positive effect being demonstrated.

My boss is on vacation and nobody else can even try to do what had to be done. One of our big customers that have kept the place going since it started, had to have a report so they could approve a tool and start production on a new part. I got an abcessed tooth about 13:00 without the slightest warning anything was wrong. I worked from 6:00 to 19:00 that day, and I don’t know how I got a report out. The pain was so excrutiating my eyes were teering and it was had to focus my sight. That was one of those instances where you didn’t need to come back, if you left. This prodject was of interest to the president of Kohler, you know the company that founded the town of Kohler in Wisconsin.

The story is 10 years in the past, not now.

I’m having trouble comprehending how delivering a report 10 minutes late is more professionally damaging than noticably crapping your pants in the office.

Since the OP is in California, this link refers to California, where a 10 minute rest break must be permitted in every 4-hour shift.

http://www.dir.ca.gov/dlse/FAQ_RestPeriods.htm

If others posting to the thread feel they can’t take breaks, I encourage you to research your own state.

From a practical perspective, this is one reason why it’s good to build up a good relationship with coworkers who can provide backup for you. Be proactive and cover for them a few times. Cross-train people so you’re not the only one who knows your job. Provide clear instructions for how your job is done.

Dedication is admirable and important, but I can’t think of any employer that would rather have you compromise your toilet hygiene than take the necessary break. Really. Don’t be like Wally from Dilbert or George Costanza about it, waiting until you’re on the clock to get paid for doing your business, but if you by and large use common sense when taking breaks, the occasional emergency will be understood.

Agreed. No one here is performing a heart transplant or manning an air traffic controllers desk or anything.

“… As I climbed up the cargo nets onto the troop transport about to take me away from the living hell that Iwo Jima, I was profoundly thankful. Not for anything so insignificant as merely still being alive. But immensely thankful that finally I would be able to change my clothes and wash the dried shit off of my legs and ass…”

[from a Marines WWII memoirs, paraphrased of course…]

Just last Wednesday I had been planning to take my son and a friend to see Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire as a reward for schoolwork improvement. The only realistic time to go was to the 5 PM showing. Unfortunately, that day, a client of ours was experiencing problems with our software, and my boss insisted that we must work on it without a break until it’s solved. My wife took the boys instead, and I have yet to see what they descibed as a fantastic film.

Oh I shat myself at work once. It was wonderful.

I was working as a House Manager at a theater. I was alone in the lobby when I literally shat myself (I had an insane case of food poisoning just starting to flower, I refused to let it come out my mouth so it found another way out) with about 5 minutes left in the play. I had to be there to bid the audience good night as they left. I ran to the bathroom, washed out my pants, redressed, but was now wet and sweating profusely and sickly looking, and made it upstairs with just enough time to say goodnight to people. I then drove home and pojectile vomited on myself the entire drive home. After the first burst of vomit, there was no reason to stop the car. I just kept going.

Imagine working outside in the middle of nowhere (i.e., no toliet within a 30 mile radius), standing in waist deep water ALL DAY LONG. No trees or bushes around you. And you are a woman, in the midst of her period.

Not fun.

I have bloodied many an article of clothing simply because there’s no way for me to change my paraphenelia. You can’t change a tampon in waist deep water. You can’t wear a pad in waist deep water. I wear chest waders (big rubber pants held up by suspenders), but they become a huge obstacle if you have to go to the bathroom in waist deep water.

I’ve thought about asking for a replacement during those “times of the month”, but I’m the only woman in the lab and it would be embarrassing to explain to someone why I would need those days off.

I’ve thought about bringing a milk crate with me to stand on. That might help.

Where do you work that you have to stand in waist-deep water for eight hours?

Walmart customer service?

You, sir, owe me a new keyboard for my current one is covered in Diet Pepsi.