When I was 22ish I spent 2 glorious years working the night shift - overnights from 11 pm to 730 am. I had all the hours of daylight to do whatever I chose and then I worked all the hours of nighttime to earn money. I loved it. I reveled in it.
The opportunity came upon me to change my work hours a couple of weeks ago to once again work the night shift. However, these would be "night hours of my own choosing," any time between say 2 pm and 9 am the next morning. I jumped at the chance. I would once again have daylight hours to revel in, to glory in, to Live in.
I don't think its gone well so far. I'm not even sure what day of the week today is. I do know I totally missed Sunday. I misplaced it somewhere. I'm doing this idiotic thing where I am awake 6 hours then sleep 2 hours then awake 6 hours then sleep 2 hours then awake 6 hours and then sleep 2 hours. If you add that, it makes 24 hours. The problem is, I end up being awake 10-12 hours then sleep 2 hours then awake 4 hours and sleep 3 hours then awake 16 hours and sleep 4 hours then need a desperate nap and then I realize Ive totally missed an entire day somewhere.
I'm eating dinner at 3 am and some mornings at 6 am and on occasion 11 pm. I'm not sure when to eat breakfast and lunch is obviously totally fucked.
I've realized I am no longer 22 and life is no longer my oyster. Bastards.
I find myself waking up at 5:30 in an absolute panic... is it 530 am or 530 pm? Its dark both times of day now. My daughter and my husband have tried to maintain some semblance of normalcy, although my husband tries to live during my hours - I find I can no longer do laundry or vacuuming because some one is generally sleeping when I am awake and I don't want to make noise that awakens them.
My daughter thinks Thanksgiving is on Friday. I think its next week. My husbands a Brit and he doesnt care when it is.
I'm not sure when I last showered. I find myself going to the store at midnight every other day. I find myself having a couple beers around 10 in the morning before I go to bed.
I walk around like an absolute zombie, drooling upon myself, scratching my parts, and grunting.
Life is Grand isn't it.
Why didnt someone tell me you can't go back to 22 again? Bastards.
Tuesday, November 25
I'm Pretty Fucking Sure I'm a Zombie
I'm Utterly and Completely Sher at 11:13
Bitch Category: Little Turds of Truth
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7 Snappy Comebacks:
Yup, it sucks to get old. I don't know how old you are, but my daughter just turned 29. She's worried about turning 30 and I am freaking out because I have a daughter who is almost 30.
Preston, I'm freaking out because you have a daughter who is turning 30. I don't allow the elderly access to my blog.
32 years ago I was 16 and in 32 years I will be 80. Somehow the math on that doesn't seem feasible. Sigh.
;)
I have walked in these shoes, and they hurt my feet.
I have been a chef, a bartender, a tiler, and a drug dealer. Getting used to the schedule is about the only thing that gets harder, as I get older.(insert winking emoticon)
Captain - It hurts barefoot as well.
I have been a short order cook, a bartender, a housekeeper, and a drug user/buyer.
Now that you mention it, life was easier on drugs. The hours I was alert and awake didn't matter because at least I was functional. I also slept the same sorts of hours then but it seemed to work better.
Thanks Captain, I shall take your advice (yes, I read between the lines) and I shall become a crack whore. Maybe I'll ride the white pony again. You've inspired me.
To complete your transformation to a zombie, you're going to have to start chasing after people and eating them. Or are you doing that already?
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