We're rebuilding the mailers now. When they get to me and the people I'm with, the mailers have been re-poly-bagged, bundled into stacks (anywhere from two to eight), and given to us one to four stacks at a time, to put into giant US Postal Service mailing bags. Bag over the mailers, bag held over the mailers to keep them in place, then we grab the bags and flip them to free up the bag top so we can Velcro them shut and put them on a pallet to take to the post office.
Grabbing the bags and flipping them, I've never felt more like a wrestler.
It's a VERY satisfying SMACK, when I bring the bag of mailers back down onto the table. It looks like I'm doing a fireman's carry slam -- or at least it FEELS like it. I can imagine the table is the wrestling mat, in the wrestling ring (the Squared Circle, yo!), and that I'm Mick Foley taking down Ric Flair*, with the crowd cheering and screaming.
This is merely one way to be satisfied with your job!
It's also satisfying that early in the week, after my first day of body-slamming mailer bags, I was sore and bruised...but by week's end, the only bruises were from earlier in the week and I wasn't nearly as sore from the work. I was handling the bags better. And maybe I'm getting a little more upper body strength. I've started getting suggestions for how to get more. (Upper body strength enthusiast onezumi, who works out well, told me "Kettlebell!" I replied "Cool! Can I start from cowbell and work up from there?")
It's ALSO also** satisfying that I'm working consistently for now -- and not only did I work five days this past week, I did overtime. 9.5 hours of work a day instead of 7.5. I'll be back Monday for another long shift; this project will take a while.
* Or, say, Rey Mysterio and Randy Orton, if you want to be more current (I mean, Foley came back to the WWE, but I'm most familiar with his 1990s work with the company). I went with Foley because I really like the guy, and with Ric Flair in tribute to my former co-worker Dena getting her daughter into wrestling back in the late Nineties. She sat her down on her lap, pointed at the TV and said "That's Ric Flair, Peyton. Boooooooo!"
** I blame, I mean thank, Monty Python and the Holy Grail for the surprising number of times I want to say "Also also."