Night People

I woke up around 1:00 AM, even though I set my alarm for midnight. The reason for that is my alarm didn’t go off. I was baffled until i realized that I set my alarm for weekdays only, and just edited THAT alarm. See, that’s why they pay me the big money. Clearly, I am brilliant. The clock just flipped 15 minutes ago, and so it is again about 1:00 AM. Maybe it’s a good thing that I woke up naturally. I’m not *too* far off anymore. I’m trying to decide if I’m hungry or not, and if so, what I should eat. I’m not normally hungry this time of night, but now that everyone else’s night is my day, I’m trying to get a rhythm established.

My goal is to stay awake until at least 9 AM, because even though I don’t start my new schedule until Monday, I feel like I need some transition time. At the moment, I am sitting on the back porch with my laptop to write this. The yard is quiet, the sounds of the animals noticeably absent. Not even Clarence (the toad that lives under the house) is stirring. I can hear a little bit of traffic, and even that is muted, as if the cars are trying to muffle themselves more than normal because they know it’s late and people are sleeping. If Dana doesn’t mind, I may have her run me up to the office real quick. I’ve forgotten my charger, and my laptop battery is only half full… which reminds me that I still haven’t gotten my security badge, so even if I did run up to the office, the chance that there would be someone on the first floor to let me in is unlikely. Really must remember to ask about my badge on Monday. Luckily, Andrew will be with me, so at least I won’t have to wait outside the door for someone to come by and take pity on me.

Maybe I should call him. If he’s awake, maybe we could go do something. That’s the part of working nights that I love. There are only a limited number of people that have the stomach for it, and generally, those are people I adore. Anthony Bourdain wrote a monster of a kitchen tell-all a few years ago called Kitchen Confidential. In it, he called cooks “the tribe that would have me.” It is how I feel about all people that work overnight. We’re a different breed entirely from the day crew. Well, technically, I’m not sure what it’s like to work in an office overnight, but I imagine it is the same. Night people are night people, whether they are born or made.

Night conversations are different than day conversations. In the night, there seems to be more time and less consequence. Notice that I say that there seems to be. Being off one’s circadian rhythm, at least to me, is akin to taking mind-altering drugs. I am sure that there have been a number of studies on this, and I should look them up… because if it feels like you’re on drugs, there must be a brain chemical that freaks out and says, “danger, Will Robinson.” Whatever it is, my body must dig it, because I have never had a problem with staying up late.

What feels different this time around is that I’ve never had to start work at midnight and finish at 9:00 AM. As a cook, I began work between 2:00 and 5:00, and would finish up between 10:00 and 2:00. Then, I would either go out with my other cook friends, or head home and binge on Netflix. I’d fall asleep somewhere around 4:00 or 5:00 AM. Because I know I’m good to go until 4:00, it’s really only the 5:00-9:00 that gives me pause. I’m reticent to say that I can nap on my lunch hour, because I don’t know if that would make me feel better or worse. My guess is “worse,” so I’m thinking maybe I should go running. We have a parking garage that’s open on the top, and would make a perfect track-like space. I am lucky that my building is in the richest neighborhood in town (Tanglewood)… Not that bad things don’t happen in good neighborhoods, but it skews the odds in my favor.

Actually, an even better idea would be to see if there’s anyone that wants to run with me. Andrew and I are the only Service Desk Agents overnight, but there are plenty of people on other teams. I don’t need to lose weight, but I desperately need to bulk up. My muscle tone has gone to hell in a hand basket since I stopped cooking.

But cooking is another story entirely.

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