#NightShiftProblems

Hashtags are are stupid. But so is working 12 hours a night 6 nights a week for the ridiculously pathetic pay I get.

I've always been kind of a night person. Sneaking out of the house at 3 in the morning as a 10 year old just to play outside in the yard. But the rest of the world doesn't seem to function on my time schedule. My wife and I are literally passing each other in the hallway. Our conversations seem to be limited to when the last time these soul devouring wild animals

were last fed. 

In the big scheme of things, I am glad I work nights. I just wish the hours were not so long. But it also makes it rough trying to have a relationship with my wife when I never see her. If I was rich and could afford a babysitter, I would probably go back to working day shift. No. If I was rich I wouldn't work period. But that probably isn't true either. I'd buy a comicbook store and read The Avengers all day long. Maybe give smoking pot another try.

So I really should work days. It would be best for my family. Only alcoholics should work night shift. It would give them less time to be in bars during drinking hours. I mean, I would love to go sit in a bar after work and have a lot to drink. They're just not open. And that really sucks. But I guess it's another money saving technique.

Nights have it's advantages though. The work load is generally less. This is great for my laziness. It's also usually quieter. The calls I do get are usually more interesting. I'm not sure that there are actually more shootings, and stabbings, and house fires, and assaults, and overdoses at night. But those seem to be the majority of our calls. (I never knew how many people actually get shot every day in my city that never make the news.) The biggest advantage of my hours are this... 

It's here everyday. But at an ungodly early hour of it. It also helps that it's only blocks from my house. I wonder if everyone that lives at the beach still appreciates how awesome it really is. I hope I don't ever take this for granted. I can sit in peace and quiet every morning and end my nights right here.

There is also no way I could have time to write this stuff at work if I was on day shift.

EASILY DISTRACTED

It's been about a year and half (maybe 2) since I last had time or was inspired or was bored enough to write anything anywhere. (that's a lot of sunrises)

 In that time I have become pretty good at my job, my son Caleb turned 18,

 my wife

 and I have had twins, and we have separated twice and gotten back together. I've gotten a Harley Davidson,

and wrecked the Harley Davidson.
That's right. Twins. An un-measurable happy little boy named Robbie, and Riley, the most beautiful little girl anyone has ever seen.

Since my other boy is now an adult I consider myself a professional parent. He has reached the age to vote, join the military, buy a lottery ticket and cigarettes, and go on with his life to do whatever he wants. He made it this far without being arrested. I consider this a win.

But it has in no way prepared me for having more kids. Especially two at the same time. Especially a girl. Maybe it would be easier if my wife and I agreed on ANYTHING having to do with raising children. I really thought we had all of it worked out long before she got knocked up. But I'm easy. I just go along with whatever.

Riley has started saying "Dada". To everything. But it's still awesome. Mainly because she also says it to me when I come in the room. Just like she does to the TV when it gets turned on.

In some stupid twisted crazy twist of fate, I have somehow become the second senior person on my shift at work. My night shift. I have no authority what so ever. I also get next to no sleep. Ever. What little I do get, I get with great appreciation to Caleb. Since I work nights and LaTisha works days, we swap taking care of the kids when we are off. Except the kids sleep at night. So LaTisha can sleep at night. So during the day, if I get any sleep at all, it's because the kids are napping, or Awesome Caleb is on baby duty. I am certain I would have died of exhaustion on some days if it wasn't for him.

But now I am settled in to a bit of a routine in life (other than needing to put my motorcycle back together). So now I think I will get back to waxing lyrical on a regular basis.

So this just happend today...We receive a call at work from someone needing rescue. The guy hangs up without giving any basic info as to what the problem is. We call back. 3 times. Not because we have that mush interest in finding out what is wrong. But because after the first person called, it was discovered the caller has a rather unique voicemail recording. Two of us had to also call to hear said voicemail. (Profanity follows) His recording (in a rather ghetto accent) proceeded to inform all callers "If it aint bout money or pussy, dont call me".

I love my job.