On Saturday nights, I work alone. I have an impossibly large caseload, but so much time on my hands that I’m already way ahead of the game. No one expects me to finish the whole thing, but it wouldn’t be a bad feeling if I did. When no one else is here, I can get an impossible amount done. At the same time, though, it’s Saturday night and I’m here while my friends are either out partying or getting together at someone’s house. If I was home, it would be mine. Alas, I am not.
I deal with this by calling the morning I get home “my party.” I invite Dana as if it were a real thing. If she’s asleep, I watch a movie, and when she wakes up, I say things like, “we enjoyed it. Too bad you weren’t here.” And then she says that she’s always fashionably late to a party and I laugh to myself that even when the party is held in our living room, Dana doesn’t show up on time.
What she lacks in promptness, she makes up for in enthusiasm. Dana is the best guest I could have chosen if I was going to throw a party every day. We are just hilarious, and it makes me happy that we can laugh at each other instead of zoning out to TV. You all are welcome to come to my party, but I don’t generally send out invites because very few people want to drink a beer in the backyard when the sun is barely up… especially on a Thursday or Friday, my days off.
Fortunately, that may change soon. I don’t know exactly when or what shift I’ll be on, but it might be good to have a day schedule again. It’s a catch-22, because I like actually working at night when there’s less going on, but at the same time, it wreaks havoc on my personal life. I don’t know what I want, so I think I’ll just take what they give me. I don’t have that much seniority, anyway. 🙂