The benefits of a good night’s sleep is not something to take lightly; especially when it has been denied to you. Two weeks ago I started working the night shift; a less eventful experience than the 80’s movie but one that has no doubt left me in a similar state of non-drug related muddled mental madness (say that three times fast). Having been a night owl most of my life I didn’t expect the transition to working nights to be so difficult. But as I’ve come to learn, CHOOSING to be a night owl is A LOT different than HAVING to be one.
Most of September has been a constant skirmish between my circadian rhythm and my burning eyelids. Despite taking enough Melatonin to put a rhino down, I still can’t seem to fall asleep before the bewitching hour is up (that’s 5 am for all you non-paranormal geeks out there). I’ve also come to learn who my true (and most understanding) friends are as my strict “not before noon” communication policy is ironclad. And while I secretly love the stillness of coming home to a quiet house and a snugly dog, I can’t seem to move past the lingering thought of: “Is this seriously my life now?”
My optimistic self keeps focusing on the fact that I can now fully take part in an all night paranormal investigation without the need for side naps. And just like vampires, ghosts, and zombies, I’ve started to do my best contemplating in the dead of night.
At least I don’t sparkle.