And On The Seventh Day

This is my seventh consecutive day off, by design. I traded shifts last week at someone else's request and then I called in sick on Saturday, so had a run from Tuesday to today--and I have two more days off. Nine days in which I've done a bit of sewing, a bit of writing and drawing, a lot of internetting, and glorious amount of nothing.

I've hardly left the house, but something in my psyche must've needed a laugh, because I've run through a lot of stand up comedy, including Fortune Feimster (a glorious comedian from North Carolina--that accent!--whose work I first encountered on youtube, where she posted a clip of a fight between her and mother (she relates both parts), which starts out coherent and very quickly devolves into an exchange of screeches that possibly only a dog could hear), Ronny Chieng (sarcastic Chinese immigrants are funny--who knew?), and Sebastian Manascalco (a long-time favorite). From there, I started watching episodes of Taskmaster on youtube (all three seasons are there). That show is laugh-out-loud funny. I've been needing more funny. Any funny. Any funny at all.

There was a run of bad nights at work, you see. Nothing I want to talk about, but it was ugh-ness from top to bottom and there was one night thrown in there where I was sure was going to be my last night there (by my own choice).  That's all passed, but you can see why I'd need more funny in my life. Good for stress relief.

Let's see what else.

We had dinner with Grace and Chris--dim sum--last Friday, I think it was. I was still so exhausted then, despite having had a couple of days off. I was falling asleep at the table, practically.

What is it about winter? Ugh. The days are getting longer finally, but when you work graveyards, the small amount of daylight is a different quantity of awfulness. I come home when it's light and leave for work when it's dark. The whole thing is reversed in an upside down way. Don't get me wrong: I still prefer to work nights and will do it as long as I can, but I imagine that at some point I'm going to have to switch to days, if only for a time, to step back into synch with the rest of the world.

And speaking of work, I got an email from the unit director, asking if I would be interested in switching my nights to Saturday and Sunday. (I currently work Thursday and Saturday nights.) This would bring them into succession and give me a clear run of five days off, yes, but it would mean sleeping all day Saturday and all day Sunday--Dave's days off--in preparation to work those nights, and then sleeping all day Monday by way of recovery. I still think I'm going to try it--though I have until February 3rd to decide, according to the unit director. I told Dave that I was petty enough that I would try to find out which of my co-workers will benefit from it. I was told that the move would help out someone who is in school--and, yes, I am less likely to do it if it will help someone I don't like, hence the pettiness. The move would also mean enough of a pay differential that I will be paid as though I am working nearly an extra six hours a week. (The money doesn't matter in terms of a decision, but it doesn't hurt either.)

This morning we went for breakfast burritos. My favorite burrito lady, Stella, was there and she put our burritos to the head of the line (pissed off a couple of people, unfortunately, but I'm not sure what to do about that). And then we came home. (The burritos were terrible, sadly, full of cold potatoes, overcooked eggs (for Dave since I don't eat eggs anymore) and unmelted cheese. Poor Stella. I think she needs a vacation, too.

The rest of today's plan is more Taskmaster, some meal prepping, sewing--?--a nap, perhaps. Maybe I'll shop for something completely impractical online, a reward for making it--nearly--through all of this endless January.