It was up at six and out the door by six-twenty for work. He’d had worse jobs that required earlier hours, but circumstances had been different. Those jobs, place holders in time. He was a teacher now and none the wiser. A cog in a crudely tuned machine, financed by just enough money for the local government to pretend they cared, but nowhere near enough to produce an efficient product. One that left students leaving the confines of the factory believing it had been the finest product to be produced. It would still be a few months, until those former students would begin to realize just how ineffective they really where. Some were able to adapt and find their genius, while most withered away within a sea of mediocrity.