A Nightshift Chronicle

Here's my first feedback entry. I got the idea after listening to a lecture track of Alan Watts recording what he experienced after he took a dose of LSD in the name of science. It was one of the series of podcast lectures I was listening to as some measure to lull myself to sleep before one of my nightshifts. Of course it never worked, and to this day, I've always had problems preparing for the bloody gruelling nightshift at work; always robbing myself of sleep time, and short circuiting my mental wiring such that I'd experience physical and mental side effects for days afterward. So, as sort of an experiment, I thought I would use this opportunity to do some practical empirical observation of what I actually experience through these few, cursed occasions of extreme sleep deprivation. I'll try to be uncensored and unedited as much as possible. I do this to note what parts of the night, and how the disintegration starts; and what of this whole trial is changeable, and the course of recovery afterward. As I record this, I hope I don't uncover any signs of completely flipping out mentally like Hunter S. Thompson, or worse, Charlie Sheen. The most important thing is to be honest about it. Seeing that this is at work I'll be restricting recording to the latter few minutes of each hour as I routinely pace myself; only after I've completed my obligations and duties, and only when the exhaustion starts to set in. I'll keep it up until I actually drift off to sleep.

Here's the rundown of my pre-shift activity during the day, and what I did to try to sleep and prepare for tonight:

• Took a couple glasses of wine after coming home after lunch, no dice
  
• Watched a DVD, trying to at least do something passive to sit still to wind down, didn't work
  
• Used a Night time Advil, finally got a little drowsy by 3:30pm, napped about one and a half hours
  

Here's the thought process as it happened for the rest of the shift:

• 3:48 am – Finished about 95% of what I'm supposed to do around here. Body is beginning to stiffen up, and I feel like I'm twisting and hunching up in a question mark posture as I write this. I'm surprisingly still quite alert, although I feel still quite askew mentally. Writing isn't coming to me as automatically as it usually does. I've kept the TV and radio off purposely. I don't think I can deal with having any more excess sensory info to process. I was reflecting on the DVD I half-saw and hoped would bore me to sleep this afternoon, District 9. It's a sci-fi movie about aliens occupying a shanty township in Johannesburg, South Africa. I wondered would happen if an alien spaceship parked itself over this place and observed the life forms here, and what judgements and conclusions they would have from their analysis of these beings around here. There certainly could be all sorts of fodder for humour with that instant of thought alone, I'm sure. However, I don't have a big enough reserve of energy to start writing it here and now.
  
• 4:51 am- Jumped around for a few buzzer calls within the hour. Legs hardly want to move, and the beginnings of a headache are appearing. Trying to think as hard as I can about what other reasons I'd have for troubling myself for being awake at this ungodly hour. Using the bathroom, thwarting a home burglary, and perhaps a booty call are the only three I could come up with. There is enough sunshine appearing now to override and screw up my mental clock.
  
• 5:45 am- Can't stop yawning. Soreness migrating to my back and shoulders. Double checking my check lists because I honestly have no reliable short-term memory by now. My reflexes aren't even quick enough to swat this one stupid mosquito that has been whirring around my head here for the longest while. I'm very hungry too, but I'll eat when I'm at home. The only reason I'd be willingly up at this time is to hit the road to go fishing somewhere. It's very tempting to get some coffee in me too, but I'm sure that a single cup now could ruin my system for the rest of the week.
  
• 6:38 am - Powerless. All physical movement is slow and clumsy. I stagger. If I were hooked up to medical monitors, some might have flat lines.
  
• 7:44 am – Back home, took a couple of Night Time Advils, waiting for them to knock me out, then I walk the dog for a few minutes, but the sunshine just makes me more stimulated. I see Ella lying here in bed with me and I get very envious of how easy it is for her to switch into sleep mode. Damn you dog!
  
• 8:53 am – Breathing and blinking eyes, and feeling very disturbed that this is all my mind is capable of noticing at this moment.
  
• 11:30 am – I just woke up. I must have fallen asleep shortly after 9:00 am. I may have been still sleeping, but the hunger I have now is so overwhelming. There's only a hunk of steak in the fridge, all else is condiments and alcohol. Ella seems happy that I look alive. The plan is to eat and go for walk to Broadway, square up with some bills, and maybe nap again when we return home.
  
• 1:23 pm – Returned home, feeling so woozy. I blame some dramatic fluctuation with my blood sugar or something, or perhaps a weird after effect with the Advils. Noticed that dark clouds are rolling in, and I'm kind of thankful, because without sunny weather, I may feel more inclined to nap. Going back to bed.
  
• 5:34 pm – Holy crap! I actually did manage to lapse into some R.E.M. sleep. I may have slept longer had not the content of the dreamscape been so bloody weird. Wicked hungry again. At least my muscles and joints aren't aching anymore. Have to go shopping for chow. This is the state that worries me most post-nightshift. It's the state where my body is now able and active, but mentally, I still feel so askew. This is the time known as "the period of bad decisions". I have this theory that if the Apocalypse were to come, causing the end of the world, it would most likely have resulted due to some action from some asshole recovering poorly from a bad sleep after doing a nightshift. In this case, I could physically use my kitchen, but mentally, I have no creative mind on what or how to even cook. Hence I burn out of here buying junk food, or pre-packaged crap for instant convenience, which is all contra to my diet plan...bad decision.
• 7:44 pm – Being disciplined enough to avoid the caffeine, which would really knock me out of kilter with the circadian rhythms. Not disciplined enough to avoid using alcohol as a remedy. Sailor Jerry's spiced rum was the hardest stuff I have around here. Before drinking, I rushed out to grab a little culinary indulgence, just some sushi bento box from Sobeys, it's probably the healthiest choice I could have made given the circumstances. Toro, that nice luscious piece of fatty belly meat from a tuna, rolled up with some creamy avocado seemed irresistible somehow. I hear it thundering outside now; strangely, it's one loud noise that I can sleep through, in fact I find it comforting somehow. I'm finishing my Sailor Jerry's and cola, and then heading to bed again, hopefully for sweeter dreams. End of entry.