So I totally forgot that I started this…but back when I did my overnight shifts in May, I started this journal/diary thingy to see how I’d react to the lack of sleep and whatnot. I just kinda did it as a case study and because when I was working for the paper at MSU, I always thought it’d be interesting to do a story chronicling how people react to a lack of sleep. Although I’m sure that much like my energy drink story it would have back-fired and I’d have gotten addicted to not sleeping or something.
Anyway…apparently I didn’t keep this thing up as far as I’d hoped; a lack of sleep will do that to a brotha. However, I do have a timeline of my return from Iowa until the morning after my first overnight. Apparently somewhere in there I forgot I was even writing this thing…who knew?!
To set the stage…I’d flown home to Iowa for a speedy weekend and I think I snagged roughly 5 to 7 hours of sleep throughout the duration of the trip, the majority of which I obtained during my initial flight out of Boston. So here begins the Jeremiah Graves Saga of Sleeplessness.
I’ve just flown back in from Iowa (booyah!) and traversed my way through the public transportation system to make it to my apartment. I’ve since showered and gotten a quick bite to eat and now it’s off to bed.
I’m officially up now. I didn’t really sleep all that well. I was hot; then I was cold and so on and so on pretty much all night. I woke up pretty much every half hour or so and then it took at least 10 to 15 minutes for me to pass out again.
I’ve just arrived at work half an hour early, as usual. To avoid going in early—because I’ll be seeing plenty of this place in the next couple of days—I wander to Dunkin’ Donuts and snag a ginormous iced coffee and a breakfast sammitch.
Yep, I’m early anyway. *sigh*
Angie is the first person to tell me I look really tired.
Remlee tells me I look tired as well.
Andrew—who just worked an overnight shift—says I look tired.
I realize I’ve been staring at my computer’s wallpaper for about six minutes and I think my eyes are bugging out. Time to get up and move around. I take a lot of journals to get bound and I pick-up two weeks’ worth. The people down in the processing office are talking to me, but I’m so sleepy I can’t focus on a word they’re saying. For whatever reason I decide to just keep laughing and agreeing; I’m pretty sure they think I’m ‘shrooming.
Angie is complaining about some douche-bag who sent her a copy of his book to be added to the collection. She soon learns it’s not a book, but rather a copy of “Beauty and the Beast” on VHS in a bad-ass, old-school clamshell case. The next 15 minutes is spent watching portions of the movie to ensure it is in proper working order.
Recess. I run around and chase a Frisbee with a dog. Joe and I work on our, yet-to-be-perfected juggling ball routine. I could really use something to eat.
Eileen tells me I look really tired. I smile and realize I’ve forgotten my water bottle. I tell her I forgot it, but instead of saying “water bottle” I say “walkie talkie.” She tells me I should take a nap.
I’m getting stoked because Ryan and I are going to bolt for the Muddy at four for some beers or as I’m referring to them…liquid sleeping pills.
Ryan has informed me we’re going to wait until five. Now I wish I’d taken a lunch break, because my belly is all kinds of pissed.
Computer is shut-down and I’m working on recruiting other people to come along. Angie tells me multiple times that I should just go home and sleep; to thank her for her consideration of my well-being I guilt her into coming with us.
The Muddy is freakin’ packed. Next destination—Characters!
Beer in hand, food on the way.
Stop in CVS looking for No Doze…can’t find it. Purchase three packets of Big League Chew and a bag of Blow Pops instead.
Dozing off on the couch as some dude named Eli dominates Jeopardy.
Pulled back into the world of the conscious by a phone call from Craig, whom I haven’t talked to since February, he’d like me to join him to take a few shots. I inform him I can’t and he hangs up, seemingly upset. I drop the phone and make a weird little whimpering noise that I didn’t know I—or anyone for that matter—was capable of making.
8:05pm to 10:45pm
I try and I try, but I can’t fall back asleep. This blows. To pass the time I watch the final two episodes of Veronica Mars…I will miss that Kristen Bell…and then I pack my stuff and head for the T.
Some drunken dude is falling all over the floor of the T station and keeps trying to crawl out onto the tracks, but is repeatedly thwarted by the MBTA staff. I ask if I can help as they try to restrain him and the more portly fellow tells me to “ignore this shit and get on the train.” I look around in all directions and see no train. I do, however, both see and hear a crazy drunken man trying to throw himself onto the third-rail. I continue watching until a train finally shows up. People are so silly.
Back at MIT and wandering toward my cube to gather a plethora of work as to keep myself functioning through the wee-hours of the morning, I also take a potty break.
Approximately 47 people in the library. It’s ridiculously quiet and I’m pretty sure the eye-lids are already feeling a little heavy. Time to bust out the first wave of energy boosters; I guzzle one of those “5-Hour-Energy” shots that they sell at 7-11. I’ve purchased 3 of them. I am also armed with a travel sized container of No Doze, three energy drinks, plenty of water, an apple, two bags of chips, some frosted chocolate donuts, the aforementioned Blow Pops and Big League Chew and a microwavable pasta bowl thing. Game on sleep deprivation…
In the past 40 minutes I’ve seen a lady dressed as a penguin walk through handing out candy while a contingent of Asian photographers followed her around snapping pictures, a security guard who was in shock to find that the library was open 24/7 and wanted to know why they’d let a student run the place all alone and some dude came up and asked where he could take a leak…I may or may not have pointed him toward the elevator. Eye-lids…getting’ heavy again.
Officially down to 28 people. Good news…I think the cleaning lady likes me.
My eyes are feeling really dried out. Stupid f’n contacts! On the bright-side, I’m combating an overwhelming urge to collapse by doing a butt-load of really lame binding. Although my wrist hurts and I think I have carpal tunnel syndrome now.
Some dude just farted. It was loud and he’s the only person in the direction it came from. He knows it. I know it. I bet he stays all night just to avoid having to make the walk of shame past the circulation desk.
Matt Van Sleet has been gone for like 30 minutes. I’m not sure if the nerds have banded together to slay him or if he is just taking the scenic route for the attendance count.
So my leg has been hurting…pretty much since third-grade, but more recently for the entire time I’ve been here. I just checked and apparently I have this gigantic bruise under my right knee. Weird.
A toasted BMT from subway on the Italian Herb and Cheese bread with southwest sauce, mayo, lettuce, pickles, cucumbers, peppers and onions. Mmmmmmmmm…that sounds nice. I’ll just go ahead and eat this apple instead…yeah, that’ll hit the spot.
I think the sun is starting to come up already…crazy!
Excellent, I just caught a major second (perhaps third or fourth) wind and I’m rolling through these morning hours like a bad-ass mofo. They say that four to five is the hardest hour, but I think I kicked four to five’s ass! Oh and the sun’s up…it’s enough to make a guy want to go for a run.
The thought of a large French vanilla iced coffee with cream and sugar is making me really excited for 8am when I’m a free man.
Totally crashing! Came out of nowhere, I can barely keep my head up, let alone stay awake. I’m going to need some sort of emergency energy aid STAT!
I feel like a cocaine junkie on the way down. No me gusta. I think I’ll have to pound another energy drink and maybe some chips.
Holy crap, I think I’m gonna puke everywhere! I just slugged a Monster (zero carbs!) and pretty much inhaled a bag of Doritos. Pretty sure that was one of the worst decisions I’ve ever made.
Okay, it’s officially the worst decision I’ve ever made…POTTY BREAK!!!!
I should probably send Mattski an email.
Oh sweet, Jesus…12 more minutes. I either need Bruno to show up or the sweet, sweet release of death…oh wait…there goes the farter…he’s trying to sneak out, but I see him. I really want to stand up and scream that I know he’s the dude who farted, but really he’s the only one even conscious…what good is public embarrassment if there’s no one to embarrass them in front of? Man, I’m a douche-bag!
Back in my cube now. I’ve technically got about 45 minutes until my shift starts. Hmmmmm…what to do, what to do?! Well I think I’ll just sprawl out on the floor here for a few minutes and just get a quick cat-nap.
Holy crap…I might have been in a coma. I woke up to Angie trying to be all quiet and sneaky. Apparently she didn’t want to wake me up…how sweet. To reciprocate, I just shot my new cross-bow at her! It doesn’t really work…shit! Thank You Family Dollar!
So my contacts are all blurry and dried and kinda stuck up on the wrong part of my eyeball…this should make for a fun day. I think I’m going to go pull some stuff for binding or something…
And this is where the saga ends. I guess I just forgot about it or spent the rest of the day and subsequent night shift in a weird, coked-out kind of daze and decided that to avoid sullying the good name of my journalistic skills I’d be better served to stay away from WORD and all associated documents. Either way, I hope you learned a valuable lesson…don’t volunteer for overnight shifts…leave that for those of us who are batshit crazy and really need the money! :-)