End of nights
Much as I enjoy being out on nights, our shift patterns really knock you around until you don’t know whether you’re coming or going. It’s not unusual for the nights team to turn up on duty asking “What day is it?” At the moment I’m feeling the strain of disrupted sleep patterns and subsequent disorientation.
The novel goes well and takes up almost every other hour of my waking day. Sometimes it feels like I’m climbing Everest without Oxygen, I get so giddy with the words. Mrs Sticker is just happy to know I’m not up to any mischief, and the dog only turns up when he wants walking or feeding. The kids have their own agendas to pursue, so, apart from birthdays and other stuff, they let me get on with the job in hand. I’m on the cusp of the home stretch, only another forty thousand (Out of a hundred and twenty thousand) words to finish. At my current rate of 1000 to 1500+ words a day I should have the first draft ready for inspection around the end of October. Failing that, a nervous breakdown and some serious sick leave are due. Fortunately, this blog and my working days out on the streets keep me (Relatively) sane.
Usual aggravation this evening with drunks and aggressively officious people (“I’m a personal friend of the Mayor!”) who last read the highway code thirty years ago. I’ve taken to keeping an up to date bookmarked copy in a belt pouch, just to shut them up. No, I’m not allowed to hit them with it, no matter what the provocation.
Thank goodness this is my last night shift for the next month and a half. Hi ho, all this and no body armour.
The novel goes well and takes up almost every other hour of my waking day. Sometimes it feels like I’m climbing Everest without Oxygen, I get so giddy with the words. Mrs Sticker is just happy to know I’m not up to any mischief, and the dog only turns up when he wants walking or feeding. The kids have their own agendas to pursue, so, apart from birthdays and other stuff, they let me get on with the job in hand. I’m on the cusp of the home stretch, only another forty thousand (Out of a hundred and twenty thousand) words to finish. At my current rate of 1000 to 1500+ words a day I should have the first draft ready for inspection around the end of October. Failing that, a nervous breakdown and some serious sick leave are due. Fortunately, this blog and my working days out on the streets keep me (Relatively) sane.
Usual aggravation this evening with drunks and aggressively officious people (“I’m a personal friend of the Mayor!”) who last read the highway code thirty years ago. I’ve taken to keeping an up to date bookmarked copy in a belt pouch, just to shut them up. No, I’m not allowed to hit them with it, no matter what the provocation.
Thank goodness this is my last night shift for the next month and a half. Hi ho, all this and no body armour.
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