Lots of people don't like working night shifts. It fecks* with your sleep pattern, makes you nocturnal, you miss out on brunch specials at the local diner because you're comatose in bed, and sometimes people mistake your pasty skin to mean you're a vampire.
But I love it. I love the night shift staff, I love the ability to sleep in until 11am and get away with it on any given day, I love the fact that EMS people bring us coffee at 0300 because they can.
There are, however, some things that make me wonder if I'm a little bit jacked in the head from working all these nights. Like this morning. I came home after a 4 day string of night shifts, and was seriously jonesing for some waffles. I'm bone tired and really want to go to bed...but those waffles need to come first.
There I was, standing at the counter with my waffle maker trying to stay awake. When they're done, I sit and begin to chow. A forkful is on the way to my mouth, when I notice a small piece of color on it - color that normally does not belong on a waffle. It's the same color as my scrubs. I eye it up. I could have reached my finger into the mess of syrup to pick that bad boy off. I could have set that bite aside and gotten the next one. I could...I could...but I didn't.
I am way too tired to get that piece of thread.
So I ate it.
Come to think of it, I'm not even sure it was thread. It might have been a small scrub-colored bug for all I know. Actually I hope it was a bug, because who knows what is on my scrubs after 12 hours in the ER. I barely slowed the fork down on the way to my mouth though so really it was a moot point. I don't think I could have stopped that trajectory even if I wanted to.
But whatevs. I don't even care. I was hungry. And now I'm full, and ten minutes from a carb coma, and I'm going to bed.
I love night shift.
Feck. My new favorite almost-cuss word.