A Sixer…Then a Fourteen-er

4 Dec

Yesterday, I finished an intense six-day work week. It was pretty hard-core, especially since this isn’t a typical 9-5 job. As the week went on, it became more and more of a struggle to visualize making the hour-and-a-half trek into work when the alarm would sound at 9:30 p.m. Then, I was supposed to make it through an eight-hour shift and listen to my coworkers yawn and lament over their own exhaustion? As the newbie, I have to keep my mouth shut: no complaining, no commiserating, and most especially no sleeping. But as the week wore on, I became more and more exhausted, not just with the fact that I was working…and working…and working…but that it seemed so absolutely endless. There’s only so many nights you can crack as smile when your family produces the same line: “Have a good “day” (chortle chortle) …at night! Get it?”   

Apparently, people at my job call this kind of schedule “a sixer” and I was unsympathetically told that “we’ve all been there.” Well, that’s really great for you. I love being reminded that I am on the absolute bottom of the totem pole–even interns get to sleep in! But when it was finally over, and I was riding home on the bus, suddenly wide awake and wired from too much coffee and too little sleep, I felt really intense. Like, I did this. I worked six days in a row, and rocked it out! Then I went home, lounged on the couch for five hours and went to bed at 7:30.

And then, I woke up…FOURTEEN HOURS LATER BITCHES! Ah, such sweet bliss, waking up as the sun shined, my eyes refusing to stay closed for another minute.  Do I feel guilty for being a 22-year old who goes to bed hours before toddlers and senior citizens? Uh, no! Well…maybe a little. But sleep feels five million times better than life-lameness.

But as soon as it began, it was over. I’m back at work…it’s 3 am. Thankfully, I’m only signed up to work a four-day week before I have another few days off. In just four seemingly short days, I’ll be back relishing in the softness of my sheets, the fluffiness of my pillow, the heaviness of my eyelids sliding down over my eyes….ahhh. Life is so divine. If I can’t look forward to instant success at work, at least I can look forward to instant slumber after.

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