I got a new job (yay) and with new job comes fluctuating hours until I am “trained” enough to deal with the duties that need to be dealt with. Because of New Job, our lives have been strange trying to get into the groove of this.
Jamie’s schedule, at least for now, is pretty set in stone. So, the last 3 days was us getting up at 2 am to get to work by 4 am and leave anywhere between 1.30 and 4 pm. Day before yesterday, Jamie got a call as soon as we got onto the interstate asking if he could come back later and work 6 to 9 pm, which he did.
Because of this schedule, this means that we’ve been very…limited to what we can do at the house. Dogs get let out, pets get fed–these are musts because they’re living animals who depend on us (and I don’t want to clean up pee from the floor or get smothered by a cat in my sleep because I forgot to check if he had food). But, the scant few dishes we’ve used up were just thrown in the sink and not washed, laundry got piled into the laundry tote and food has been something akin to “it’s a peanut butter sandwich, throw it in a bag and let’s go.”
Yesterday, I walked past a coworker who asked why I wasn’t my usual chipper self (because I am back at Store…Store that I was at a year and a half ago) and I told her that it’s because I am on Day 3 of having two 2 o’clocks in one day and we’ve been up anywhere between 18 and 20-some hours every day just because of work schedules and whatnot.
Yeah, I realize that some people are like this all the time and some people work double shifts all the time and hey, more power to you. For real.
But I cannot do this. Doing things like this makes my hallucinations more noticeable to me, makes the hallucinations more frequent, and makes my bullshit meter go down a lot. I begin making mistakes, like misreading the time or getting sticky labels stuck on other sticky labels. It starts out as ridiculous stuff and I know that it will just continue to devolve until terrible mistakes are made, and I just can’t have that.
Jamie and I got home yesterday at about 4.30 and decided we’d sit down for a bit and then get up and begin doing housework. He sat down and I let the dogs out. Hobbes came back inside, but the neighbor was outside and walking his bigger dog (they have this beagle mix type hound dog and a teeny little chihuahua looking dog).
Firefly somehow managed to squeeze herself underneath the fence and the dirt to run across the street to sniff the dog and…almost got hit by a car. I yelled at her and by the time I had gotten out of the backyard, the car that almost hit her had stopped in a dog-recreation of Home Alone where the van stops right at Kevin’s face while he’s screaming. The guy asked if it was our neighbor’s dog, he said no it was mine as I’m running down the driveway to get to her.
Firefly is super lucky she didn’t get hit by a car and super lucky our neighbor doesn’t have leash reactivity. The dog just stood there like “what the fuck” while Firefly sniffed at her and I took off my jacket to tie around her neck to lead her back to the house. I was fully expecting the neighbor’s dog to be all “NOPE” and snark at Fly (if that happened, Fly deserved some snark for the shit she pulled) and walked Firefly back into the house holding onto the jacket and having to walk her with her between my legs. I told her she was a bad dog and if that guy had hit her, I was going to tell him to just go and leave her there (it’s an empty threat. I would’ve freaked the fuck out. But, since it didn’t happen and my damn stupid dog isn’t injured, I get to chide her for being a damn stupid dog). The entire time I was thinking that at least it wasn’t Hobbes.
Got the dogs inside, let them just hang out in the house and came out to find that Jamie’s work gloves are destroyed and Cricket ate one of my pairs of underwear. We put them up, sat down for a few and I went fuck this, I’m going to bed.
I slept for 16 hours.
At some point, Jamie got up and made Waffles. I keep telling myself that I’m going to go back to sleep because I’m tired and a little bit ago I found myself trying to adjust my eyeball because I didn’t have my glasses on and I have no idea where they’re at (and I’ve been up for just barely more than an hour)