q3

the days fall away without warning, the weeks drone by into months and you lose track of time. you're often working during the night and sleeping during the day, oblivious to the sunlight and circadian rhythms that guide everyone else. you see other bleary-eyed residents--pre-call, on call, post-call--and exchange knowing glances of stoic solidarity. you see your neighbors sitting outside on their stoop, enjoying their second beer, their leisure time, with their friends on a wednesday night as you trudge home, wondering how you'll manage to find the energy to make dinner. you change your clothes, wash your face, and play music that triggers nostalgia of easier days, not daring to sit down anywhere lest you fall asleep before eating something. after your meal you finally do fade into a post-prandial slumber on the couch, into a dream measured by a song, less than 4 minutes, but seemingly so much longer, or shorter, or... it's time to go to bed now if you want to get enough sleep to make it through the next day and night, as there's nothing worse than waking up tired, 30 hours before your shift is over.