day is the new night

I am consumed by this ridiculous schedule, and it is bunging up everything from getting a proper night's rest to even eating. Now my body has lost all sense of when it's time to eat, as opposed to sleep. For example, it is 6 a.m. right now. In The Normal Universe, I'd still be sleeping, this being my day off. But, in Parallel Hell Universe, I wake up early in the a.m., hungry and unable to go back to sleep. Not to mention my stomach is pissed off about the random eating changes, too, and has gone on "I'll make your life miserable if you do try to eat, my pretty" strike.

Likewise, most of my days off are being sucked away by a tiredness or outright exhaustion that precludes doing anything meaningful and/or creative, but I try, and end up stumbling around, feeling annoyed that I have have to break every rule of sleep hygiene and common health sense in order to make money at work. For about one hundred dollars extra per week, they can keep their fucking night shift is all I have to say about this crap.

I'm getting more and more annoyed as the weeks wear on, not the least of which that I'm missing out not only on the last sun and warmth of the season (which means I forfeit the last of summer, essentially, and therefore it'll be a year before I see sunlight again) but that I'm destroying the delicate internal workings which are mine own circadian rhythm.

God, I really hope I don't have to stay on nights for a really long time, because I think I'm going to go insane from not ever sleeping properly. How do people live all tired and cranky like this for years at a time? This overwhelming sense of bitterness at having had my life go from "pretty much regulated the way I wanted it" to this "I dunno, I guess I'll be compelled to sleep sixteen hours a day and still feel tired" crap-o-la is making me nuts.

I need an easier job, with banker's hours.

I am getting in the odd outing here and there, however. Kitschy Seafair/Torchlight Parade on Saturday, dinner in the International District and then a visit to Community Hospital to visit my friend (who works in the hospital and not a patient) on Sunday, and fun (if dusty and slightly overwhelming) Magnuson Park outting with Mister Piper and his new friend, Taylor's Mochi, followed by Intensive Bath Therapy for both Piper and Jamie.

Now Mister Piper is thinking quite a lot of himself, and designating all sorts of Self-Selected As Piper Appropriate places to sleep and lounge, like the bed and couch. These are not, however, Jamie Approved so we have been having a bullshit battle of the wills at present, with Piper generally winning out as I haven't the strength or consistency to really be a stickler for making him move unless I want the spot.