Tortured Ramblings From Graveyard Shift

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When I was a much younger man, working the graveyard shift was a small blessing to me. It kept me “hidden” from the department admin and there was a much more relaxed, brotherhood type feeling on the morning watch. It was were the action was at and that was the place to be if you were looking to run-and-gun and make a name for yourself as a solid, standup lawman.

As I have gotten older, the old bones are becoming more and more difficult to motivate out the door to face another graveyard shift. I feel more affected by the challenges associated with nightshift and I find myself a bit more lethargic than I did in my youth. The fatigue sets in faster and tends to hang around a bit longer. I am fortunate that we work rotating shifts so I only have to endure four months of nightshift before switching back over to days.

One of the drawbacks is that while on nights, I still have administrative responsibilities that require me to try to live a “normal” existence on my days off which basically translates to less sleep in order to stay on top of the mounting paperwork, training schedules, and any semblance of normality in my personal life.

As I ramble on, I feel that this may be coming across as negative and that is definitely not my intention. I am exceedingly blessed and when people express to me how difficult it appears and how sorry they are for me, I absolutely always say “It could be worse, I could be unemployed.” I sincerely mean this reply. No matter how bogged down I get in my job, I know there are millions of people across the world who would do unmentionable things to be able to have the chance I do to earn a decent living. I was fortunate enough to do some travelling in my youth and it was the best “education” I could ever hope for. When you stare into the abyss of true poverty it will leave an indelible impression upon you for the rest of your life and it the memory will always be awakened when you begin to take for granted those things others suffer without on a daily basis.

Anyways, I’m not sure where I am going with all of this, but I just got home from working and wanted to do some writing to wind down and for a little bit of a bonus therapy session before I drift off to those perfect fly fishing streams of my dreams…….remember there are many, many people who would love to have the life you hate.

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The humid night breath caresses my neck like a lost lover,
Sharing our secrets in my ear with bated whispers.
Her jealous mate, Father Moon, glares at our betrayal,
Raging forth he calls the silken clouds to hide his tears.

We are one the night and I, comforting one another,
She knows me as no other can, our pain borne together.
My secrets hidden by the obsidian sheets of night,
She judges me not with her loving embrace.

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All That Is Gold Does Not Glitter,
Not All Those Who Wander Are Lost
-Tolkien