Last night I stayed up until 8 in the morning, because I had to, because it was my job. It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.
I wonder, though, if my body will react the next time I think about saying yes to a noc shift. “Oh yeah, brain? You could use the extra hours? Fool me once, asshole. I know what graveyard means now, buddy.”
Really, though. Not so bad. The night-time chores only take about and hour and a half. Other than that I just watched downloaded episodes of How I Met Your Mother and drank coffee.
I really like this job for many different reasons. One, though, is that working in two houses with five bedrooms each means that I can get to know the ten residents I work with really well. I was a little worried about being in a big, dark, quiet house by myself all night, but I never felt like I was by myself. I know all the people who were asleep in the rooms around me, I respect them, and for the most part I like them. That doesn’t mean that I didn’t chant “Go to bed! Go to bed!” in my head when somebody got up for the roughly one millionth time to drink milk and fall asleep at the kitchen counter. But I liked it. It was peaceful.
I woke up today at 3:30pm. I called my parents because it’s Sunday and that’s what happens on Sundays. Mom asked me what I was going to make for dinner, and I replied that I didn’t know, but that I had an eggplant in my fridge. They said “Eeew!” but they are clearly disturbed individuals with no sense of taste. I have not been cooking lately, beyond the occasional over easy egg or can of soup, because:
1. I get to cook at work, and make big dinners for six or seven people at least a few times a week.
2. My kitchen is… impossible. This is my kitchen prepped for making the eggplant parmesan I lovingly crafted for myself (and possibly one naughty boy cat who likes to lick my empty bowls when I’m not looking). As you can see, two of the burners on the stove are being requisitioned as extra counter space.
And here is the lovely finished product. The addition of mushrooms and summer squash was most excellent. I will thoroughly enjoy the copious leftovers I have set myself up for.
Happily, my existence with this pitiful kitchen is not a life sentence. I have actually applied for another apartment! This one is much bigger, and not just the kitchen. (Although the kitchen is very serviceable and will lend itself to cooking more, and more adventurous things) It’s a two-story, two-bedroom townhouse, only 2 miles away from work! I can’t wait to hear back from the office so that I can put in my thirty-day notice and start packing! Again. Luckily I don’t have too much stuff; only as much as will fit in my car, plus some furniture. Oh, and this little guy.
Isn’t he sweet?