Grave Digging
Working at night may have its advantages. You can unceremoniously scratch your nether regions, take a nap on the toilet or spend an entire hour dancing to Eric Hutchison. Yes, he is a dorkified preppy-dressed, hippy-thinking white boy but he's alright with me.
But the midnight watch is not for everyone. I have co-workers whose fingertips have been burned by the midnight oil. One woman felt so nauseated she had to lie on the dirty, staple-strewned carpet in.
The most obvious side-effect to me is this unabatting desire to tear a living thing apart, one limb at a time. (where's your imagination...don't be so literal).
I am not a night owl; more like a morning lark.
In a past life, my people walked with Ra and took pains to mimick Him. I wake up with the sun and my body begs me to lay it down soon after the sun drifts below the horizon line. Even when I was in college, I did not often pull all nighters.
Don't get me wrong. I can stay up after 11 pm but then I just don't want to be chipping away at any "serious" endeavour. All activities past the 23rd hour must be fun, licentious or innocent, depending on the mood...
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment