Back to work tonight for a run of four night-shifts. I’m hoping that my Muse isn’t delayed at customs as I fully intend that a run of nights will drag here back from her holiday.
Is it wrong to hope for an ‘interesting’ job, when it means someone is going to get hurt?
It has reached the time of year where, when I am on nights, I turn into a vampire – I will be leaving the house when it is dark, and will (hopefully) be returning before sunrise. If I had blackout curtains, then I would not see any sunlight at all. When I was working permanent nights as a nurse, I did have blackout curtains, and the department had no windows.
After a year of this, my skin was the envy of every Goth within 50 miles.
A quick update on my mother – as you may recall, I got you folks to bully her into visiting her GP about a suspicious-looking mole, she has seen her GP, been sent to the hospital, and the doctor there has scheduled it to be removed on Wednesday. The doctor at the hospital didn’t like the look of it, so once more – thanks for bullying my mum.
The ‘music to listen to while driving like a nutter’ comment thread has kicked up some interesting ideas – I think I shall be trialling most of the music that has been suggested (obviously via legal MP3 download sites). There were some classic tunes that I had forgotten about, and already own, so I’ll be burning a ‘Racing’ CD in the very near future…
With night shifts, comes my head doing strange things to me. For example – I’ve just woken up after thinking about my father.
CAUTION: Introspective wanky writing ahead – You have been warned.
The short version of my history with my father is that he left home when I was around fourteen (my brother was around twelve), and married another woman (without divorcing my mother first – an oversight on his part, he is after-all barely literate). Since then I haven’t seen or heard from him, which was a bit strange as the split between mum and him wasn’t acrimonious.
So my attitude toward him has basically been ‘Fuck him’, it appears that he wanted us out of his life as quickly as possible, and he has succeeded admirably on that point.
So…why was I thinking about how I’d love to meet with him, tell him how excellent my life is? I’d love to let him know that my brother is an excellent teacher and is getting well paid for his work. I’d love him to see how his walking out on us only freed both my brother and I to go on to do things that we love doing. I’d love to show him how relaxed and chilled out my mother is now. I’d love someone to read this blog out to him, so that he could know that I’m doing better without him in my life.
Actually…I wonder if he is still alive?
So – for one moment after not thinking about him for years, I’d love to rub his nose in how good my family and I have it now he isn’t on the scene.
I’ve told you that night-shifts tend to break my head…
I promise – ambulance based posts only for the next week or so