Monday, February 1, 2010

In which the curse is broken






Fevered dreams can only haunt you until the fever breaks. Tonight, er, last night, wait..wait.. this current night shift, yes, just happens to be my very last weekend/night shift combo (for the time being). For some time now (approximately 6 months) I've been laboring through vorpal mysts as a 3rd shift man-nurse. As my first post-college job it's been no surprise that I stuck to the odd sleeping habits I worked hard to garnish through late night cram sessions and sweaty fingered game playing debauchery. However, at this station in my life I've come to the conclusion that the night time is best observed with one's eyes closed.

There seems to be a crooked connotation connected to the late shift that I'm having a hard time clearing. In my mind I'm (not in Carolina) taking a step back from the machismo I've added to the twilight warrior 7PM-7AM selection. In a way it feels as if I'm pulling off my morphine pellet lined gun belt, sheathing my problem solving battle axe, and flipping back my low light night vision visor. Plainly put, it feels less "cool" to be working alongside the day walkers. However, this doesn't change the fact that my list of pros and cons are swayed against the moonlit direction. As a matter of fact, I welcome the new. What was once a moot/mute/mutated point has now developed into the reality entering my life next weekend.


Here's an simple example of the night shift machismo equation:
+ =

I wonder how my life will change by merely dialing the clock back twelve hours each weekend. Will I find it more fulfilling? I consider the time spent with my lovely counterpart in crime quite valuable, yet oftentimes I'm straining to pay attention to our plans and playtime due to my scheduling oddities. This was something worth investigating for some time, laying heavily on my mind. The result of the change is worth exploring.

Sometimes I muse upon the old dusty story told by Chuck Palahniuk in his book Fight Club. Yea, it's overdubbed and miss quoted a thousand times by every blossoming neologian this side of the Bean, but I can't help myself from imagining what it would be like if I could simply switch one half of myself off at a time, allowing for an around the clock coverage of my doings. Sleeping seems like such a burden until I find myself in my own bed, wrapped in every blanket woven into existence since the 1920's, and arms gently tucked around my loved one. Burden then blossoms into absolute bliss.

(The old moosey)



Aha, I picked up a new IPhone application tonight worth mentioning. It's called "our stage". It works as a Pandora substitute yet has a flare for music yet to be brought to main stream. I'm digging the metal list at the moment and am swiftly moving towards the blues section. I can't wait to see what turns up.

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