Nightshift

The night grew weary with each passing hour. Thank goodness today would be my last nightshift for the week.

The lure of sleep kept tugging at my eyelids as the scratchy pull of sleep beckoned with each passing minute.

I had agreed to cover Zack's shift as a favor so he could spend his wedding anniversary with his wife Julie. So here I was maneuvering the giant grader for the first time this winter down the middle of the city street clearing the snow.

There was something cathartic about creating order from the chaos of impassable, slushy city streets while the rest of the inhabitants slept, unaware of the work being done to prepare for the new day.

It isn't often I had the vantage point of seeing the city quiet before the pulse of the day pounded to life. The dots of yellow taxis emerged from side streets, vacant having dropped off the last fare. The blue glow of the fluorescent lights lit up the business signs enticing passersby to try the newest restaurant.

I must be getting hungry, I surmise, as my thoughts turn to food. I haven't had lunch, supper or even breakfast depending on how one defines a meal in these wee hours.
I had lost touch with my innate desires. Was I hungry, tired, or thirsty or all three? I resorted to my usual consumption of caffeine to make it through the night. It would keep me awake for the last hour of the shift but would also keep me awake once I arrived home.

Home. What a nice thought? A warm comfortable place to lay my head and replenish my flagging energy.

Why did I agree to cover the nightshift? I questioned myself.

The cold of the night cut through my winter workwear. I feel weak and vulnerable from exhaustion. I give myself a pep talk of how strong I am, I love nightshifts, and like magic, I believe my words of encouragement and am lifted up to carry on.

The snow is lightly falling, fluttering to the ground like tiny white butterflies as I shift the grader into high gear, determined to complete my route before my shift is over. I seem to have a surge of energy, either from the pep talk or the rush of adrenalin coursing through my body thanks to the jolt of caffeine.

I open the window in the cab of the grader and take in the fresh air mingled with diesel as the exhaust is sucked back into the equipment

The crackle of the radio causes me to jump with nervous anticipation. "Emily, are you almost done your beat?" Jim grufffly asks. Jim is a 20 year veteran of the construction industry so his mannerism cannot be helped.

"Right on schedule Jim. I'll be done at the end of my shift."

"Marvelous Emily. I can always count on you. By the way, Terry called in sick for his shift, do you want to stay on and continue working?"

I didn't want to dissappoint Jim but I was so tired. "Thank you for thinking of me but I don't think so. I can't manage another eight hours. "

I let Jim down gently knowing that I was giving up overtime pay but also having the wisdom to know when enough is enough to enure a balance in my life. Right now, there is no amount of money that can compensate for a restorative night of sleep.

With that, Emily turned the final bend in the road with the blade scraping against the pavement. Her heart and mind in agreement that she was making the right decision to prioritize sleep. Tomorrow is another day full of new decision but for now, her bed was calling her home.