Being a bit of a night owl, I've never really minded the times I've worked the graveyard shift... except for the last time. It was in 1990, we had just had our first son, and the income was worth the hassle, or so I thought. I would get up at 9 pm, shower and eat, be out the door by 9:30, and to work by 10 pm. I'd work til 7 am, drive home and take over the baby from my wife, (she'd leave immediately for work) and Daniel and I would hop in the car and drive to Buffalo State College where I was teaching a philosopy course part time. I had a student who would act as sitter while I taught, and that ungrateful little brat of mine would sleep like the baby he was FOR THE SITTER, and wake up as soon as I got back. He then would stay up ALL DAY, denying me the chance for a nap.(He thinks this is a funny story, rotten kid!) At 6 pm, my better half would come home, I'd hand off the kid, catch a fast 3 hours of sleep, and do it over again. Plus, we were working at least 6 days a week, sometimes 7. If I ever did get a Sunday off, I'd spend it sleeping. So let's recap... New baby, 3 hours sleep a day, 2 jobs, 4 meals a day (being up 21 hours straight requires sustenence, but I put on 30 pounds in 6 months) and almost no days off. At Easter, I actually got 3 days straight off, slept for 2, was clear-thinking on the 3rd...and quit the next day.

Sleep is GOOD!!!

Blues