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I’m struggling to get back on an even keel with my sleep after last week’s mega-shift knocked me off my feet. I’ve had to get by all week on about five hours a night, and usually when that happens, a wee lie until 8am on a Saturday is enough to inject me with some real energy and fresh me up. Not so, yesterday. I struggled all day and never lost that heavy lethargic feeling.
In the morning I took a wee jaunt up to town to the Spoon Café, that great wee bistro/coffee house I’ve grown to really enjoy of a Saturday morning. I was joined half way through my couple of hours there by the book fan’s fan, Rob Burdock, who was in town with his family. We talked shop: writing, websites, books, etc., before I had to head off home.
I’d already planned the rest of my day out by the time I arrived back in Leith. I would spend the day writing then order a pizza to myself in the evening and take in a movie. It sounded perfect – like all plans formed on buses are – and I was almost dribbling with the excitement of it all.
Then I remembered I was scheduled to work in the evening. It wasn’t even standby, which would have affected nothing; it was a full shift, on site, at the day job to work on a software implementation. I’d totally forgotten. How wonderful.
And of course, when Sod’s Law happens it really does happen. It was a nightmare shift where nothing went to time or worked first time around. It was the perfect ending to what had been up until then, a hellish week in the place. It deflates me just thinking about my exciting plans versus what I actually ended up doing.
As far as my shift went, well, it was an implementation and once I had eventually got my bits all completed my time was my own until the call came through that we had a sign off. Traditionally, there are only two things you can do here: read the newspaper or browse the internet. I chose a third: writing in my notebook.
I didn’t want the day to be a total washout writing-wise, did I?
And in the end, I got away from work reasonably early, early enough (and by that I mean not long after 10pm) , tha I could get home to see my family, enjoy a pizza (Asda, not Dominos but it was better than nothing) and watch some television.
It was very nearly, a perfect ending.
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It’s a perfect example of how to steal time to write. Good for you!