working third shift.

Working third shift is not for vaginas.

I've worked third shift in various jobs since I was 19. I guess I love punishing myself.

Because I have kids and I like spending time with them without looking like a drooling  sleepless zombie, Im the type that rather than prolong the torture, I just do about five or six shifts in a row. BAM BAM BAM. Like rippin off a bandaid baby.

Night one: Having taken a sleeping pill the previous night. I have not taken a nap before this shift. I'm happy. I spend time with Bear and Bug, coloring or outside. I cook dinner and I am generally a pleasant person. I eat. Because it's the natural thing to do. My scrubs are pressed (just kidding, they've been thrown in the dryer), my socks perfectly match my scrubs, my shoes are clean. I drive my one hour commute and all my favorite songs come on the radio. I am dancing and singing. I smoke only about two cigarettes. The night at work is ok but not great because I have an entire group of patients that I need to get to know and fawn over. I answer emails and text messages in a timely manner. I also check my voicemail when I receive a missed call. This all makes me a trooper.

Night two: I have slept approximately 5 hours, I woke up only once during this extended nap. I take a shower, I very vaguely remember taking this shower,I eat a pack of crackers and a cup of hot tea, I pack my lunch, I play with Bug and Bear for about twenty minutes and make small talk with my sitter, who is also my grandmother. (The grandmother Im named after, and also the grandmother I frequently mirror in actions and words) Some of my favorite songs are on the radio but I either catch them in the middle of the song or my sirius is being a bastard and starts cutting out. Fuck you sirius. I stop at my gas station to obtain the nectar of the Gods, Sundrop. Tonight I buy two. My night is better but my patients expect me to spoil them again. This is not so. When I drive home from work in the morning, I am sleepy but not overly so. I answer texts and emails when I get in bed, at home. I do not check my voicemails.

Night three: I wake up after five hours. I dont know my name or where I am. I stare at my alarm clock and wish it evil. I close my eyes. Five minutes later, my grandmother opens the door and tells me it's time for me to get up. I give her the Vulcan death stare. I bury my head in my pillow and scream obscenities until she screams in my ear that she has heard all these words before and to stop because St. Peter will NOT allow me in heaven if I continue. I get up. I think I shower. I think I eat. I remember none of this. I kiss both my kids because even in my sleepless state, I think they are the cutest tiny humans ever hatched from an alien pod (Seriously, this is what Im thinking). I get in my car. At this stage every song on the radio is agitating me. I deal with it. If you are bum asking for change. Make sure you dont ask me, because I still have bad words I need to use before I get to heaven. I smoke approximately four cigs steady on this commute to work. My socks match, my scrubs are wrinkled. I'm ok when it comes to outer appearances, but I possess an angry ball of rage. Do not be a fool. Do not speak to me. I either completely ignore texts and emails or I delete them on site. I realize that it is unsafe for me to respond to these messages, because I will be hateful in my response. I stop at the gas station, I buy four Sundrops. I quickly chug an entire 20 oz before I leave the parking lot of the gas station. This will be all I eat til 2 in the morning. The night at work is mediocre. On the way home I turn the AC ALLLLLL the way up and keep all the windows down to discourage sleepy driving. The rumble strip only surprises me once.

Night four (last night unless I do overtime this week): My alarm wakes me up. Im not sure how long Ive been sleeping but my brain is telling me to trust no one, I kick my door down and stomp to the bathroom. My grandmother stares at me in horror OR already has both the children outdoors and away from me. I am speaking unintelligible gibberish, it makes sense to me, but I cant form appropriate vowel and consonant sounds. It's scary, even to myself. I may or may not have taken a shower. I know my hair is wet. I eat nothing because I'm nauseated. Obviously my grandmother tried to poison me while I was sleeping. I will get her. I refuse to pack my lunch because all food is contaminated. I stare at my children and try to telepathically explain that I will be home in the morning and to kill the old lady. My socks dont match, my shoes are dirty, and my hair is in a messy bun on the top of my head. I get in my car and every song enrages me. Meanwhile everyone driving on the road is attempting to kill me and I scream curse words and give obscene gestures. I stop at the gas station. I buy six Sundrops. A bum asks me for change. I cut his throat and hide his body in a back alley. I chug one Sundrop, while chain smoking cigarettes. I turn the radio off because the songs are taunting me. I answer all texts and emails with nonsensical dr. seuss and alice in wonderland quotes. I refuse to respond intelligently. I refuse to listen to voicemails. It is a good night at work but I spend much of it on careerbuilder.com and faxing resumes. When it's time to leave in the morning, I throw my report papers at the oncoming nurses, while screaming "SEE YA LATER BITCHES", and laughing hysterically. I call my nurse manager and tell her to expect my two weeks notice when I wake up that evening (she refuses to take me seriously, she is used to these idle threats). On the way home, the rumble strips save my life no less than three times. The AC is turned all the way up and all the windows are down. I dont care. Im fucking tired. I pull in my garage and take a five minute nap. I wake up and realize I need to go grocery shopping. I do this. I come home and sleep for a ridiculous amount of time. Approximately 13 hours. I wake up and my husband brings me food in bed, my children jump in my bed and share my food. I go to sleep again. I wake up at five am. I have 18 voicemails. I check them all and wonder why everyone is asking me if I'm "ok". My mother texts me at six am asking me if I'm awake and why I was tripping acid the previous day.

:)

a day in the life

since ive been such a phenomenally shitty blogger lately, it's a two for one bitches!!! today is two post day because I love all you sorry hoes!!! bahahaha

as much as I envy individuals without emotional hangups etc, i love my daughters and they ARE my emotional hangup. They create the most love, purpose, tension, heartache, frustration etc in my life. Sometimes I assume I have at least four seperate personalities fighting for supremacy in my fucked up head.

here. is a day in the life. actually its a real day that happened last week.

500-I wake up, I check my phone to see if I received any fun/interesting text and/or facebook posts. I curse my life because I have such a fucked up sleep schedule and I hate myself and third shift for doing this to me on my day off. I attempt to punch myself in the face but it doesnt work because I'm a coward and I dislike pain.

530- I roll my sorry ass out of bed. I walk into the kitchen and immediately begin making a cup of hot tea and wrestle my nook from it's charger. fuck that charger. I look at the beer in the fridge. I pull it out. I look at my two dogs and cat. They are staring at me. Judging me. I put the beer back. I take my tea, my nook, and my cigarettes and go outside for blessed peace and to let my dogs take a shit.

535- I hear a knock on the back door. It is my child. She assumes it's ok to get up because I am up. She is wrong. I need at least one hour of peace before I face this day. I  make angry faces at her and point in the direction of her bedroom. Which is hard. Because I'm outside. She makes an angry face back at me. Then she licks the glass window on the back door. This is unacceptable. I go indoors and tell her to sleep until her daddy gets up.

615- My child is staring at me again. I accept that I will lose this battle. I go indoors and turn on cartoons and give her a poptart. Dammit.

645- My second three year old wakes up. MAY THE BATTLE BEGIN!!!!!

800- Somehow, Ive managed to convince my kids to eat yogurt, poptarts and little debbie cakes for breakfast. It works but what they really want is eggs, which I dont have in my house at this time. Note to self- by two dozen eggs next time.

1000- Up until this point, my daughters have fought. Not terribly. But small skirmishes. And then the shot heard round the world. Bear takes Bug's toy. I see the "awwww fuck no" look in Bug's eyes. She wants to throw down. I see this for what it is. A declaration of war.

*fight*

1100- Both Bug and Bear are in time out. They keep snarling things like "Im gonna beat you", and "Im gonna kick you in the head". Its mildly humorous. I laugh. Then I go outside for a cigarette. I come back in and open the fridge, I stare at the beer. I look at my kids in time out. Bug has a slightly bloody nose and Bear has a bloody eyebrow. Blood inflicted by three year olds. They judge me anyway. I reach for a Sundrop. Fuck tea at this point. I need the big guns. I begin the preschool registration paperwork.

1300- Bug and Bear eat PB&J's while I finish off a healthy choice microwave meal. What I really want is a PB&J. I eat one. Ahh. That's better. Bug and Bear immediately begin throwing cheez its which the two dogs and cat begin fighting over. Dammit. All animals go outside. Kids are placed on the couch. Bear finds a pen. She begins writing on mommy's new revised budget for household finances. Then the kitchen floor. Bear goes into time out. Bug begins taunting her. Bug goes in time out as well.

1400- Mommy, Bug and Bear go outside. This is very nice. They catch bugs and mommy reads her book.

1500- Nap time. Which is a war. Bear and Bug immediately begin accusing me of not loving them. I carefully explain that I need this time while they sleep so I dont kill them (just kidding, maybe) I read a book. They sleep. Life is good. I finish preschool paperwork and think about how nice preschool will be three days a week.

1630- I hear screaming from my daughters' room. I walk to the door and listen. Bug is accusing Bear of stealing her pony while she was sleeping. I hear a grunt, I open the door. I find Bear with Bug in a head lock. Again. I find this humorous. Sometimes I think I lose my mind a little. Fortunately Bug is not blue and I seperate the screaming children. I think, again, how nice preschool will be in august. Blessed Mary, mother of Jesus.

2 fights, 3 snacks and 4 timouts later.

1800- HURRAY!! Daddy is home. We are an evenly matched team now, WE WILL WIN. I open the beer. I drink it. I dont care who judges me. My husband laughs. I laugh. Then we begin terrorizing my children in an effort to get them back for terrorizing me all day. PUNISHMENT!!! BAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAA

2000-Mommy is passed out on the couch. She is impossible to wake up and she loves this. Daddy puts the girls to bed. They get angry and accuse him of not loving them. He laughs. He is invincible to their taunts. They get louder and wake mommy up, against all odds. Mommy becomes the incredible hulk. Both children are silent after seven minutes of the incredible hulk.

2100-Mommy and Daddy watch fun reality shows and adult shows, shows that dont include colors, numbers or other educational tools because that shit is played out and we wanna see a bunch of forty something women, living in new york, with jailbird husbands, BATTLE. Because its fun.

2200- Mommy and Daddy hit the sack. Only to wake up in the morning and do the whole damn thing again.

the.end.

rainy day....

rain, rain, go away. never come back again.

on this fabulous rainy day. i find time to blog. oh joy!

happy belated fourth of july.

after a FABULOUS kid free weekend, I begin my week with the yuckiest day ever. not because i hate rain. false. i love rain. its the perfect weather to nap to, read to, watch hours of reality tv to........i could go on.

unfortunately my children arent old enough to read, they actively hate naps, and they are a tiny bit too young to appreciate a good reality cluster fuck on the television.

break out the crayons and playdoh. ugh.

i much prefer to play outdoors, its fun, easy, very little mess to clean up (other than a nice bath afterwards) and my kids can entertain themselves outdoors. They catch bugs, chase the cat, dig holes etc.

play doh ruins my day. so does fucking "moon sand" or whatever the fuck it is. crayons end up on my walls, markers (dont even talk about it).

playing inside expends very little energy as well. kids need to get rid of this energy or they become hypersensitive, whiney, unhappy little shits.

this does not make a happy mommy.

they morph into this..........



small, hypersensitive, questionably rabid dogs.

god help me.