Which Would Be Fine, But...

I was going to bed around 11 tonight. From the time stamp on this post, you can tell that this is getting published much later. Its 2:54 am according to my laptop clock, and my body is showing no signs of shutting down and getting ready for sleep mode. Nothing. Close the eyes, and the mind keeps going. Not even a yawn or a head nod.

Which would not be a problem-- except I am supposed to be waking up for an 8 hour shift in an hour.

The 4:30 shift at Starbucks is certainly not the worst--the first two hours are relatively uneventful: as a barista, I stock the pastry case, brew some coffee, clean the oven, and peel some bananas. Then comes the rush around 8, and then you're out by noon or one pm. Really, if I could get an egg sandwich on the way to work, it would be the perfect shift. All in all, its not a bad trade off, if you can swing it correctly. I am not one of the people who can swing it correctly, and end up with the rest of the day to do what I please.

Instead, I will fall asleep around 2:30 tomorrow afternoon, and wake up from my "nap" around 6 or 7pm, only after sleeping through at least two phone calls. Then, I'm up and shining until.... we repeat this process over again. Which would be fine, but I like the day light hours. This will also be compounded by the fact that I tend to run pretty full steam in the mornings, so I will also likely come home with a headache that will last from the end of my shift to two hours after waking up from the nap.

Being young and fresh faced, I know that I can pull this off-- I've done it before, once going 40 hours without sleep, working through a morning shift and the Head RA program. However, I was never as much of a bitch as I was that day before bed time. During that awake time, I was also involved with some watermelon carving to make snacks. To rehash, I am angry and wielding a knife on Olympic amounts of awake time. It sounds like the body of a news article. You know... the suspect had been awake for days, and brandished the knife in a fit of rage before plunging it into the watermelon. More at 11.

This is my last week of work at Starbucks-- and I'm generally pleased about that. I love my working environment, I like most of the customers, and my coworkers are amongst the more incredible people I've met in Worcester. However, the high pressure of the rush times, the under-scheduling, and the pressure that I put on myself to perform well as a barista are more than enough to make me sigh with relief when I take off the apron for the last time on Wednesday. Its just coffee-- it shouldn't have these longer reaching effects on my private life.