Yesterday was an eight-hour nightmare, despite no major disasters at work. I had to help dig out from under the aftermath of an ugly power hit and managed my part of it by persistence rather than wit. Found myself face-down on the desk once after having "just closed my eyes for a minute," and lucid-dreaming while sitting up twice. I managed to get myself awake enough to drive home safely, though in hindsight I wonder if I could have passed a field sobriety test. Claimed eight hours, was there rather longer but I can hardly claim all of it was productive.
Clearly, I should have put a lot more effort into shifting my wake/sleep cycle than I did.
One small delight this morning: I had picked up some cheese for my Pastrami Hash. The grocer was down to pretty big blocks of manchego; I love it but it's priced like a precious metal (or at least copper). They had smaller wedges of Campo de Montalbán, lower-priced per ounce, which looked like manchego and had a similar-looking but darker rind: turns out it's also from la Mancha, made with sheep, goat and cow milk instead of manchego's one hundred percent sheep milk. A mild and slightly complex flavor, it played well with pastrami, potatoes, red bell pepper, green onion with an egg cooked on top.
Didn't sleep terribly well but it added up to eight and spent an extra hour and a half (not all in one go) horizontal in the doing. Hoping that will be enough.
What is this "sleep" of which you speak?
ReplyDeleteI have a hard enough time adjusting to graveyard shift when all I work is graveyard shift. Management periodically suggests we rotate shifts, and the reply is a unanimous "NO!" For one thing, GY can run with 2, although 3 is optimal, but Daze needs 4 (although they can limp along with 3), and afternoons needs 3.
I hated shift work.
ReplyDeleteI was an MP back in the day.
We worked a rotating shift: three day shifts, three swings, three graveyards, then 72 hours off.
Lather, rinse, repeat.
You never got adjusted to it.
Invariably, on the graves shift, just after you had dozed off after getting home, a lawn mower would start up outside of your bedroom window.
It was a good thing I was young.
Later in life, I was the oldest person at a 24/7/365 facility. I worked eight hour shifts for about ten years, where we changed shifts every three months.
I struggled with the graves.
Then we went to twelve hour shifts with six month rotations.
I really struggled.
Ambien was the new sleep med being touted by big pharma.
My doctor prescribed it.
It did not work for me.
The various and sundry horror stories from co-workers who tried it made me wonder why/how the stuff made it through the drug trials.
Incidents of waking up and finding you had cooked a five course dinner during the time you thought you were in bed asleep or finding youself somewhere and not knowing how you got there that did not involve a drinking contest and Stoly kamakazis were reported.
One person I knew taught a class and while she had no memory of it was later complimented by several of the attendees.
There was even a driving under the influence arrest.
My doctor still thought the stuff was great.
I would go days without sleeping.
My mind/body could not adjust to sleeping during the day.
The graves started affecting my health.
After about two years of the twelve hours on twelve hours off my doctor said no more and due to a precedent set by a supervisor in a similar situation managment put me on permanent days.
I found I can function to acceptable standards without sleep for three days and three nights. After that my judgement degrades rapidly.
I never hallucinated due to prolonged lack of sleep, but I knew people that had.
Studies show (no, I am not lying) that most people who get less than five hours of sleep have impaired reactions on a scale equivalent to DUI.
Glad I am retired.
It drops your stress level because if you have a bad night and can't sleep you can take a nap if the urge hits you and you don't have to worry about functioning in a high stress environment with inadequate sleep.
Ms. X, I understand that this shift is not your usual, but it is still hard on us older folks.
The all-nighters in college were a piece of cake.
Youth is, truly, wasted on the young.