It's been weeks and weeks.
I'm writing this with about five minutes to spare, no drafting and minimal thought.
It's been a fairly horrible couple of weeks, months, nearly a year. We are really short staffed at work, with people on holidays and people who have left and have not been replaced (in one case, we're getting to the six month anniversary and the fourth re-advertisement). On average, it's midnights, one off, one on, one off, several on. Throw in a midnight (leave work at eight in the morning) and an afternoon (come back at four or five of the same day), and no wonder I'm exhausted.
I had my third go at that one (two shifts on the one day) in a fortnight and feel like I've been abducted by aliens. I've lost a day. It's one day later than it should be. It has been for the last four days.
The creative writing workshop started two weeks ago, tomorrow is week three. Our teacher, Mark Tredinnick, is very good. I suspect though, that I'll be reading a lot of books in my future that I would not have considered (aside from, maybe I should read that) just from the short readings alone - and there's even more mentioned in the Little Red Writing Book (yeah, his).
I would like, very much, to quit my job and work on this. See if I can take it anywhere. See if it can take me anywhere.
See if I can have a normal life, where I'm not tired all of the time, disoriented and perfectly uncertain about the time of day.
But of course, we're already short, so...keep twirling until next time. Or be rebellious and inappropriate; that's my default when I'm this exhausted.
Nothing more. Too bored and furious (it's an interesting combination - I recommend it for enemies) to focus a lot of the time right now. I would like about four days of sleeping whenever I want to.
Since I have no end phrase (and I'm twenty minutes past my five minute deadline), bye.
