Work has flipped me upside down again. I’m on my third day of dayshift, once again replacing a co-worker that has gone on unexpected leave. Getting up at 6:00 am is a bit of a trick, but hey, won’t it be nice to be able to have my evenings free? I won’t miss out on events with my friends, I can easily stop by the store after work. And dinners! I can make proper meals again. I won’t be so bad. I am a morning person after all.
Ah, such rose-colored glasses.
Three day shifts out of ten down, the same length of time I worked the last rime I substituted. And just like last time, I’m feeling pretty wrecked. Wonky sleep and eating schedules have re-wonkified. I’m hungry at all hours and desperately sleepy. The cats gave adjusted to this worse than I have, becoming both ravenous and smothering.
Worse still, my motivation and energy levels for working on anything writing related is very limited. I did get some work done on my Viable Paradise application letter yesterday and I’d meant tonight to work on the edits for a short story. Instead I’m going to bed, hoping to mitigate my much interrupted sleep from last night. (I’m looking at you, cat, Mr. It’s-Been-2-Hours-You-Awake-Yet??? *blink purr*)
I don’t think dayshift will stick. My office and me are at our best in the morning. I am so tired and there are too many social distractions.
Blarg. Night. Will write MOAR. Soonz. Zzzzz.