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Extra-special kind of tired
I'm once again tidying before the cleaning lady comes. I am almost done, and thus taking a quick break. I don't know how I managed this, but she seems to come almost exclusively when I'm on night shift, thus depriving me of sleep. It's a feat, I tell you. I still have dishes to do and clothes to put away (yay, laundry!), but otherwise I'm in good shape.
This night shift was quieter and more relaxing than the previous. The on-loan guy actually stopped talking for a few hours, thanks be to every god in the sky.
In other news, I have not been in a very good mood lately. The best I can muster is "nice," or "not belligerent," or "not using the supervisor as a piñata." I've started fantasizing about running away to Iqaluit, or about going off and starting a B&B in the country, neither of which is a really good idea. The fantasies are there only because I'm really, really, really overworked and overtired, and the thought of five more night shifts in a row is making me depressed.
Five more nights, and then I'm off. That's the payoff. I can survive five nights, right? Right?
This night shift was quieter and more relaxing than the previous. The on-loan guy actually stopped talking for a few hours, thanks be to every god in the sky.
In other news, I have not been in a very good mood lately. The best I can muster is "nice," or "not belligerent," or "not using the supervisor as a piñata." I've started fantasizing about running away to Iqaluit, or about going off and starting a B&B in the country, neither of which is a really good idea. The fantasies are there only because I'm really, really, really overworked and overtired, and the thought of five more night shifts in a row is making me depressed.
Five more nights, and then I'm off. That's the payoff. I can survive five nights, right? Right?