Morning in the oilfield. These days I live in a 36 foot long trailer commonly called a shack, planted next to the Nabor's 60 drilling rig. I work medical standby. More on that later, but it's a pretty nice job all things considered.
The thermometer on my wall says it's -15 degrees celsius (that's 5F for you Yankees down south). And due to idiocy and equipment failure the tank heater that sits inside the sewage tank connected behind my shack was not working. Meaning that the shit in there is frozen cock hard stiff.
Luckily for me it's not my job to deal with this sort of crap. It's the guy's who installed the sewage tank in the first place. However I did go above and beyond the call of duty and traced the heater cord to the piece of crap diesel generator. I call it a piece of crap because it's breaker kicks out the power to my shack when I'm running my dryer. Is this connected to my current poop-problems? Likely. I discovered that even though the heater cord was plugged in… it appears the breaker for it is switched off. Think someone could label these switches huh?
So I click switch and wait with baited breath to see if this thing sorts it's self out.
Some days having your shit together just isn't ideal.