I have held various types of employment since I graduated from high school. From bartending for egotistical soldiers, preparing work orders in a manufacturing plant, to changing diapers in a retirement home. To my surprise I have enjoyed them all, except the job I took as a candy packer. Working at Russell Stover was the worst job I ever had, the work was physically strenuous, the pay was poor, and my schedule was grueling. First of all, the job was physically strenuous on every part of my body. Every day there were various types of jobs I could be assigned to, all of which requiring me to stand in the same spot for eleven hours a day. As a candy packer, I stood face to face with an assembly belt carrying heart shape boxes at forty-five boxes per minute. As I stood on that concrete floor packing candy, all I could do was pray for that break bell to ring. Other positions included running a machine that was wrapping those boxes in cellophane, then to rush and place a golden sleeve around each box. Since these boxes are moving at such a fast pace, these cardboard sleeves are not a good friend of mine. With the building being kept at such a low temperature, my skin was so dry; therefore, giving an opportunity for every sleeve to cut my hands wide open. Every night I went on my way home with swollen legs, and bloody hands just to do it again the following day. Not only was my body physically beat, but my schedule was grueling. I worked Monday through Saturday four in the afternoon until three in the morning. That didn’t leave much time for my personal life, much less any sleep. I was nineteen years old, with no life, work and sleep is what my life has become. With working until three in the morning, by the time I ate dinner and jumped in bed the sun was coming up. I averaged about five hours of sleep if I was lucky. Running on Red Bulls and, blood shot eyes from only got me so far. Although my body could handle the working conditions, the pay was poor for the amount of work done. At Russell Stover a candy packer was paid $7.76 per hour. I averaged sixty hours a week and twenty of that being overtime. My paycheck still did not look like I expected it, I felt as if I worked that overtime for free. My checks averaged about three-hundred and ninety dollars per week. That may sound like a decent check for a nineteen year old, but after my bills were paid I was too broke and broken to even think about doing anything fun. Through all the hardships of the candy packer business, I stayed with the job until I was able to save up enough money to move back home. Even with the physical pain, unfair pay, and the difficult schedule I learned a valuable lesson on work ethics. Working at Russell Stover opened my eyes and helped me realize I needed to pursue college. I have since had much respect for people who work assembly line jobs, although it is not for me. Never in my life do I want to come in contact with another heart shaped box.