What day of the week is it?

The days are now starting to blend into one another.  My typical day begins with my alarm going off at 05:30 and then grabbing some breakfast to go which is usually a scrambled egg wrap and ‘back room brew’ coffee in a Styrofoam cup with international delight creamer (man I miss Starbucks).  Drinking coffee such as this takes me down memory lane…I remember going to a car dealership with my Dad and sisters as a child (aka Dad’s idea of babysitting).  Of course, the highlight of the trip for my Dad would be looking at all the shiny new cars and ‘oohing and ahhing’ over them and commenting on the size of the engine with the salesman.  Meanwhile my sisters and I would load up our cups with sugar cubes, powdered whitener and coffee forming a whitened sugary delight and then go and pretend to drive all the cars, anxiously waiting for the day we would be old enough to get our license.  (Back to my day)…I then proceed to get into my truck and head to the rig.   The morning sky is still very dark and so the stars are glistening above but I’m too scared to stand and observe (remember the bear)?  I arrive at the rig for the 06:30 safety meeting, sit in on the morning call with Calgary and go for a hazard hunt with the safety tech.  It’s usually then lunch time at which I head back to camp for a hot lunch.   After the 18:30 crew change safety meeting, I drive back to my temporary home, putting me back at camp at 19:00.  Then after dinner, I’ve got about 2 hours to call family and friends, check my email or watch television.  Every morning when the alarm goes off I can’t believe I have to get up and do this all over again. 

Occasionally the top drive (the motor which spins the drill pipe) needs troubleshooting therefore meaning that they crew can’t drill, so these tend to be quiet days.  When the crew isn’t drilling they have to clean the rig.  This is how I found out what the safety tech meant by a “guy’s” broom.  While on a hazard hunt, the safety tech asked if I noticed anything different about the broom and asked me to try and pick it up.  The inner feminist in me was dying to be able to sweep this broom across the rig, but to my surprise it was very heavy and quite difficult to lift.  Upon further examination I noticed that someone had added several giant washers near the brush head thereby adding weight to the broom and saving them from having to work-out in the evening.  This kills two birds with one stone, as they can build their biceps and shoulder muscles while on the job.  It makes sense, but something that probably wouldn’t occur to a female.