Saturday, November 16, 2013

The Mask and the Moon

Recently, I started doing something I swore I'd never do again.

I've taken on a job, which is actually a good thing.  However, this job happens to be on the graveyard shift.

The last time I worked nights, about 12 years ago, I said it would truly be the last time.  Each time I tried working when the stars came out, I felt an erosion of connection between those in my family whose waking hours are spent squinting in sunlight.  Oh, and then there is the zombie-like feeling of constant sleep-deprivation.

It's surprising I'm able to string these words together.  But then, the sun still sleeps and I'm wide awake right now.  Come daybreak, and all of this will abruptly melt into sparkling puddles of gibberish!  

Still, the night shift has its benefits, to be sure.  Particularly for those with night-owl tendencies, such as myself.  I feel most creative at night.  When at home, that is.  Somewhere along the way I said to myself, I'm awake anyway, why not get a job... get paid...  
Sort of an idiotic, or perhaps delusional, thing to tell myself.  Creating things for yourself in the moonlight is a bit different from going to a job of someone else's creation.  Well, idiotic, except for the "getting paid" part.  Ha!

I do appreciate that I've found a job.  Interestingly, it's with the same company I thought I'd never work for again.  When one goes looking for night jobs, one can't be too picky, I suppose.  And I need to work nights, because my schedule has to blend with everyone else's in the house.  This seems to be the only way.

And so...

When the moon rises in its enormous distortion and the stars sparkle as though it's for the last time, I put on my mask and venture out to complete mind-numbing tasks for money.  Some of those who work with me have a similar story.  And whilst they feel comfort in sharing their entire life with me and all those around them, it is doubtful many, if any, will know who I truly am.  Some things are sacred.  I'm simply more of an observer anyway.  They seem fine with just the basics and appreciate my ear.  Of course, as with many workplaces, there are a catty few who'd have me choose sides.  They'll quickly find that I'm not one to join cliques.  I prefer to hover around the edges, being kind to the kind.

Do you ever have moments when you are chatting with people and mentally mark it as somehow important, or special, the conversation being had?  There are times, whilst sitting amongst certain peoples, it strikes me.  Particularly with people who are transient.  Those from other countries, or those who plan to travel elsewhere to pursue other jobs.  The feeling is different.  The conversation, completely different than those who've been with the same company for 20-some-odd years, in the same town...  Priorities differ.  Interests.  Just a thing I've noticed.

I suppose I should keep up with this blog.  It could be the thing that reminds me of my true identity, else it be lost in the haze of blurred and sleep-filled eyes.  I should do a video on this!  On occasion, one needs to be reminded of why they do what they do.  That there is a bit of purpose to it.  If not, it's time to look elsewhere...  Which reminds me to keep my eyes open...  always~~~^*^