I am sure that I don't cope with nightshifts as well as I did when I was ten years younger. The concept of needing less sleep as one gets towards ones dotage is surely not right. I'm sat here between nights, unable to sleep, apparently incapable of getting it together to go running, whingeing electronically, just for the sake of it. Night shifts create a kind of moral grey area; I'm not sure what I shold be doing if I've been up all night. So that's carte blanche to do nothing at all.
Then there's the dulling of the appetite and great grey Gobi like deserts that form under my eyes. My head feels (more) full of cotton wool and I get grumpy with objects in the house. My conversational powers decay, and all I can do is put my head down and get to the end.
1 comment:
Your picture uplading powers seemto have decayed as well!
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