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.

:)