I'm working night shifts this week. I love it in one sence, hate it in another.
It's quiet. I get loads of stuff done at work that I never get to do otherwise. I have time to read through important documents that I've forgotten about.
But I sleep all day. Literally. Not 8 hours. No no. I pass out when I get home and have to force myself up again when the next night shift starts. So my life stands on hold whilst I sort my working life out.
There's a reason why I only do this one week a year. It's enough time to sort out work cupboards and files, enough time not to mess my social life up too much.
Cats think I'm crazy. Don't understand when I'm coming or going, or if it's time to play or sleep. But they cuddle up to me for a while until they get too fed up, then run off to bring me toys. It's OK.
Now I'm off to work. Fruit, biscuits and music in my backpack. See ya!
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