atomic_fungus (atomic_fungus) wrote,
atomic_fungus
atomic_fungus

#4047: 28 hours of work in 3 days

Oh, good gravy.

Tomorrow I'm back to part-time hours, though; I work seven hours rather than 8 (or more) and it's the same for the rest of my week...save Saturday, when I'll be going in at 7:30 AM again, and then working the evening shift.

Can't really complain, though. I'm working, and I'm enjoying it (most of the time). Today I felt run down and ended up laying in bed for about 20 minutes before I got up--ordinarily I'm up on the bounce, a few minutes at most after the alarm goes off, but today I simply couldn't manage that, and my energy level at work was less than stellar.

Well, tonight I can get some sleep, and hopefully tomorrow I'll feel better.

28 hours in 3 days really isn't that much--it's an average of a bit more than 9 per day--but since I didn't work it that way, it didn't end up affecting me as if I had. No, the 12-hour day followed by two 8-hour days is taking its toll, and I'm not going to really recover before my next day off.

But that's how it goes. I can handle it!

* * *

I never used to wear undershirts, but since starting this job I've gotten into the habit of putting a t-shirt on before putting on my official GS polo shirt, and now it feels a little strange to go out wearing just a t-shirt or henley.

It adds just a touch of formality to business casual to do it, and somehow it makes me feel more successful. To my surprise I have not found myself sweating my butt off, which is a welcome revelation for me.

My Dad never wore t-shirts under his work shirts, not after I was perhaps 10 or so anyway. I certainly don't remember him doing so. I just never got into the habit of wearing undershirts, either.

It helps, of course, that I'm not doing a lot of heavy lifting or anything like that--I'm not unloading trucks or moving freight or-or-or, and since most of my workday takes place in an area about fifteen feet long I don't really move around all that much, so I don't work up a sweat.

* * *

And in the "end of an era" department, today I dropped my CNA certification card into the "shred" box at work. I realized I've been carrying the stupid thing around in my wallet for more than ten years. It expired in 2004 and had my social security number on it, so I ditched it. Even if I did need it (and I fervently hope I do not) the damned thing's expired and it was issued in Iowa; I'd have to re-test for the Illinois certification regardless.

* * *

Now I believe I'll go take a well-deserved nap.
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