So you may have seen my note yesterday buried within this post that I had to be at work for a 6:30 AM meeting today. I'd like to share with you what this does to a night person - for those who are morning people, it will be an educational experience. For the fellow night-owls among us, you can commiserate with me.
July 13, 9:00 PM
I am sitting at the computer, reading weblogs and playing games, obsessing about the fact that I must get up very early in the morning. Like, 4:00 AM. This thought runs through my head over and over again. I feel: completely wide awake.
I am still sitting at the computer, reading weblogs and playing games. The thought of getting up at 4:00 AM looms ever larger. I begin the process of ending my game and making plans to go to bed at 10:30 PM. I feel: more awake than I need to be.
I log off of the computer and actually leave the room. I take off my makeup and brush my teeth, and begin discussions with the hubby-head about heading to bed. He has not moved from the couch. I sit back down at the computer and begin reading blogs again. I feel: almost tired enough to go to bed.
I am sitting on the couch beside the hubby-head discussing several things that are on his mind and laughing at various and sundry things he has found on the Internet. He finally decides he should have gone to bed already and logs off the computer. I detour by the front hallway to turn on the porch light and discover that there is a classic Phoenix monsoon storm just kicking up. We go through our normal nightly snuggly sweet ritual. The kitty tries to crawl under the covers. I say goodnight and drift away... I feel: rather tired. I should have gone to bed an hour ago.
I am lying in bed having just drifted off to sleep when the hubby-head wakes me up. The power has gone out and, knowing that I have to be at work obscenely early, he wanted to make sure that I was able to set the alarm on my cell phone. I struggle out of sleep to muster the mental energy and manual dexterity to set the cell phone alarm. The first time I do something wrong and it doesn't work. Finally, with 3 alarms set for 15 minutes apart, and the covers kicked off due to the lack of A/C, I lay back down and try to drift back off to sleep. I feel: way more awake than I was 5 minutes ago, darn it.
Having just drifted back to sleep, the power kicks back on. I then have to reset my clock and alarm because I'm anal like that. I close my eyes to slide back into sweet, blissful sleep again when the hubby-head's attention is caught by a mysterious blinking light in the living room. He goes to investigate and reports back that it is the computer monitor, blinking because the computer was off but the monitor power was on. I drift back to sleep again. I feel: somewhat irked and very tired.
The hubby-head, attempting to sneak back to bed, stubs his toe on the footboard. The sound and vibration startle me out of whatever sleep I had managed to get back into. I realize that my alarm is going to go off in 4 hours. This realization makes me desperate to get to sleep. Ever try getting to sleep when you keep thinking over and over again "I really need to get to sleep!"? It's not easy. Every time I felt myself drifting into unconsciousness, my brain would think "I'm falling asleep!" and that would wake me up. I have no idea how long this went on. I feel: kinda freaked out at the thought that I may never get to sleep because I keep waking myself up thinking that I'm falling asleep.
July 14, 4:01 AM
The alarm goes off. I hit the snooze button. I feel: unconscious.
The alarm goes off. I hit the snooze button. I feel: barely aware that I have moved.
The alarm goes off. I hit the snooze button. I feel: extremely sluggish and in denial.
The alarm goes off. I hit the snooze button. I feel: somewhat conscious of the fact that I need to get up, but don't want to.
The alarm goes off. I hit the alarm reset button. I force myself to sit up and put my feet on the floor. I am very quiet to avoid waking up the hubby-head. I try not to fall down on the way to the bathroom. I feel: in a dense fog.
I wake up the hubby-head and say goodbye to leave for work. I talk to the cats on the way out. They are thirsty. I tell them daddy will give them food and water when he wakes up, relatively certain that I remembered to inform him of the fact that their dish was dry. I grab a cinnamon roll from the refrigerator and my purse from the counter and get behind the wheel. I feel: alert enough to drive safely - but only barely.
Having stopped for gas twice before getting on the freeway (the first stop I made did not have power due to the monsoon storm) I discovered that the route I planned to take to work was not optimal due to an earlier accident that involved an overturned tractor-trailer hauling grapes. I took an alternate freeway route that involves going about 7 miles out of my way. 15 miles into my commute I begin yawning constantly. I feel: like pulling over and taking a short nap.
I pull into the closest available parking space to my office after having alternately yelled, made excruciatingly annoying noises, and sung made-up songs in a Broadway show tunes style at the top of my lungs for the past 10 minutes. These things were an attempt to keep myself alert enough to avoid driving off the road. I feel: relieved not to be driving.
The coffee is made, my cinnamon roll is heated up, and most of the participants are sitting around the conference room table for the meeting I reluctantly called for 6:30 AM. I turn the meeting over to CoWorkerE because my brain is not functioning well enough to make coherent sentences. I feel: woefully inadequate and really doggone tired.
After drinking a full cup of coffee I have my hard hat and boots on and am walking to the actual building where the proposed change order work is to occur with a group of people. It is about 85 degrees and very humid and the building is not yet air-conditioned. I feel: almost able to comprehend some of what is being said around me.
After an hour in the field and drinking a full bottle of water, we sit back down in the conference room to discuss the changes that we just looked at. I pour another cup of coffee and refill my water bottle. I feel: marginally awake. And I really have to pee.
The meeting is over and I believe I have a decent comprehension of the issue at hand and what CoWorkerE and the engineer of record feel about it. Having gone into this meeting anticipating the opportunity to reduce the cost of this change order, it appears that we have instead increased the cost - your tax dollars at work, CitizensOfWhatever. More review and negotiation will be needed to finalize the change order but the HardHatGuys are expecting a directive to proceed with the change immediately if not sooner. I need to discuss this issue with BossMan but he is in the field with the architects. I sit down at my desk and realize that 1) I have a throbbing headache, 2) my throat is scratchy, and 3) I have an all-pervasive achy tiredness that is very reminiscent of the flu. I feel: Like the poop.
I do some minor work-related items that require no brain power and decide to walk some documents over to the HardHatGuys' trailer because if I sit down I will most likely lose consciousness. While at the HardHatGuys, I find myself chatting relentlessly with various people. I talk too much. I feel: delirious and giddy.
BossMan finally returns from the field so I can review the change order information with him, but immediately gets on the phone. Judy suggests to me that I go home and get some rest. This idea strongly appeals to me. I decide to go home and nap, then work from home on some meeting notes from yesterday. But first, I must discuss this change order and the directive to proceed with BossMan. I go into his office and sit in a comfortable chair while he finishes his phone conversation. I nearly drift off to sleep sitting up. I feel: bad.
BossMan gets off the phone. I proceed to discuss the results of that morning's meeting with him. CoWorkerE enters the room and adds to the discussion. We formulate our collective opinion and decide how to proceed from there. BossMan makes a phone call to the CityOfWhatever to confirm our direction and gets the man in charge's voice mail. He returns the call within 2 minutes while I am still sitting there, barely thinking about getting out of that comfortable chair. I sit through the phone call and receive my direction on what to do next. I inform BossMan that when I have prepared the directive as requested, I plan to go home and do my meeting notes after getting some more rest. I feel: still very bad, but hopeful that I will soon be on my way home.
I sit down at my computer and begin preparing the paperwork directing the HardHatGuys to proceed with the change order work. Two sentences into this document, BossMan, CoWorkerE, Judy, and the architects ask if I am joining them for lunch. I decide that I am going to have to eat anyway, and where they were going for lunch sounded good, so I would join them, then finish my paperwork and head for home. I feel: hungry and oh-so-very-tired.
After a lovely lunch of salmon soft tacos with mango salsa (and two Diet Cokes), I sit down to finish my paperwork. The paperwork done, signed and delivered, I chat with the HardHatGuys for another 10 minutes or so... then Judy asks me a couple of questions and eventually I decide that I might as well try to stick it through another hour-and-a-half until I have put in my 8 hours. I begin to work on my meeting notes from yesterday's weekly construction progress meeting. I feel: resigned.
I get my second wind. I finish my meeting notes, begin working on researching another potential cost issue that was raised that afternoon. I come to a conclusion about this issue and write out my notes for documentation purposes. I read e-mail. I answer e-mail. I remember some documents that I needed to fax to the architect and electrical engineer. I suddenly realize CoWorkerE has left and it is 6:00 PM. I feel: great! I feel great! I feel great! I feel bad! I even watched football! I even watched football! I can't remember my legs!
I leave work, lock up, and head straight to church to do my monthly turn on nursery duty. The ups and downs of the past 21 hours or so run through my head and I decide I need to blog about it after church. I feel: energized.
I have a four-year-old, a two-year-old, and a 16-month-old in the nursery. The four-year-old runs the show. He keeps up a running game of "let's pretend" that involves sleeping, waking, killing monsters and giants and spiders, playing with his little sister, and making fried fish and scrambled egg juice for breakfast. I am amused by his imagination so I play along until the very end, when I am more amused by the two-year-old and the 16-month-old and how fascinating they find it when I pile foam squares on top of my head and pretend to sneeze so they topple off. I feel: anxious to have our own kids. Generally happy.
Hubby-head and I are hungry so we go for a quick dinner after church. We talk about our day. I regale him with the frustrations of the construction project. I feel: relaxed, and mildly tired, with an undercurrent of manic blogging energy that must be satisfied.
I sit down to write this blog entry. The cats are talking to me. I try to focus on what I am saying. As I wind down to the end of my day, the writing is much less urgent and my eyelids grow heavier and heavier. I feel: the whole day beginning to crash down on me.
Good night, folks. It's been one heck of a long day. I feel: hopeful that you have enjoyed or been somewhat amused by my account here... and if not... I don't so much care after all. *grin*