Night Shift; Coffee; My Dad

I’ve mentioned before that I decorate cakes at a bakery. It’s generally best not to sell customers stale cakes, which requires that bakers and decorators at the bakery work odd hours so that people can pick up their cake orders at 6 a.m. Normal work days are fairly routine and during standard work hours, but weekends and holidays are a different story. I started this job when I was 17 and blissfully unaware of the difficulties of working night shift. I have come to find that it is extremely difficult to work straight through the night and even harder to wake up at 2 or 3 a.m. to start working. I’m being a little melodramatic because I don’t’ have to do this all the time like some people, but it really isn’t fun. My friends and I at work have noticed a cycle after having worked for a few hours with irregular sleep: First you get loopy, then you get quiet, then your face gets hot and your head feels light, and finally you get grumpy (or hysterical if you’re having a bad day). We think the cycle is funny (once the blood rushes to your head you know you’re about ready to call it quits), but I think the only reason we say it’s funny is so we don’t lose our sanity. Why do we subject ourselves to unpleasant monotony?

Thinking about work has me thinking about coffee, which definitely influences me considering I can’t function if I haven’t had coffee in the morning. I’m not sure if it’s in my head that I need it or if I actually do. I drink coffee when I need a little jolt of energy, but I also drink coffee in the evening to relax. This is strange to me because if I actually do need coffee for energy, then why can I drink it in the evening when I’m winding down? I also think the associations I make with coffee are dissimilarly funny. When I think of coffee I think of groggily waking up or being dead tired at work, but I also think of just having eaten Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner with my family, which is a much more pleasant association.

For this week, I’m going to consider my dad an artist, which is something he probably hasn’t heard before. He doesn’t make fine art, but I can’t think of anything that he can’t build. I’m extremely jealous of his ability to understand structure. I wish this understanding came as naturally to me as it does to him, because it would greatly benefit a lot of my work (and I’m sure he wouldn’t mind a few less phone calls from me asking how to put something together or what materials I’ll need).