Yawn
So another day, another hideous graveyard.
And I am mentallyAT THE PADDLE STORE! (with not a cent to my name nor any spare credit, not even belly button lint to barter)
Now not even 3am and the yawns are taking me over. I'm determined however to save that sacred bottle of V I stashed in the fridge until at least 5am so some of the caffeine drives me home and not into another car/truck/bus/ditch/off the bridge etc.
Sleep is evading me. I look like a zombie (funny, I feel like one too) and of course the figures decided to do funky things tonight and not just straight out balance and behave (fuckers).
I had yesterday so well planned. Work, gym on the way home (and I actually went and have the blister from my jewellery to prove it), quiet piece of toast, juice, and a hot shower when I got home. Polished off a coupla chapters of a book I've pretty much read the pages off anyways and curled up to sleep. Worked a charm!
Til I woke up 2.5 hours later.... much to my disgust. From then on I only managed small dribbly non-sufficient pissweak attempts at sleep.
Said it before, but I have to reitterate, graveyard works sucks. How I survived 4 months (or thereabouts) doing it I have no fucking idea. I am NOT nocturnal!
Also sitting here in the calm (though I did sneak down to the restaurant to crank the music, and killed the muzac til 6am to prevent the monkeys in my head from rioting... I have no bananas)... nfi where I was going then.... got distracted and wandered off in search of things sugary and awake (and succeeded in finding some divineLemon Curd Tart... mmmmmmmm... oh bum, might have to go for a swim on the way home now).
3 days off are coming... in approximately 3.5 hours (when I say 3 days please keep in mind the first one IS today and I don't finish work til 7.30am (in theory, in reality I plan on being out the door by 7.10am).
Guess I'd better go finish wrapping up the bits and pieces of work type sstuff they expect me to do.
I miss the sandman, I hope he visits me today.
If he doesn't I'm going postal on his maggoty ass.
posted by LuSh at 10:05 AM
5 Comments:
You have the blister from your jewellery to prove that you went to the gym? Where on earth are you jewelled?
I did the graveyard shift thing very briefly when saving up to go overseas. It definitely fucks you up!
Loud & Lush: tis ok, it's just from my ring, on my palm. It was a callus, now it's a piss annoying funky blistery callus.
Susanne: Suffice it to say I was already fucked up, now after a further 2-3 hours sleep, whaddya know, even more fucked up *insert listless shrug here*
Yep, done the graveyard shift too. You know you never get used to it. You build up a "sleep debt" that you can never repay.
It takes a good week, or normal sleep, to even feel human again.
Good luck hun. I feel for ya.
Lish: I love that pic! Also thanks for the linkage, I am returning the favour.
When I did my very short stint of army stuff it was the lack of sleep that really killed me. It wasn't the yelling, the shouting, the random and pointless brutality, it wasn't the running up and down mountains (okay, okay, small little hills) with 50lbs on your back, it was the utterly debilitating, deep down inside scary and edgy feeling of emotional and mental instability that the lack of sleep produces. It is horrible, frightening and it doesn’t surprise me that it is used as a common form of torture.
HMHB
Post a Comment
<< Home