I'm time travelling at the moment, switching from day shift to night shift. Both are 9 till 9 and I have a couple of days in between to adjust. Moving to late's almost puts me on the same schedule as everyone else in New Zealand, roughly starting work 7am NZ time.
I've never really thought of 9 to 5 as being particularly lucky, but compared to 7 to 7, it's a holiday.
Still, the point of coming here was to earn some cash in a new environment, while it's tough, I'm happy to put my head down and get the work done. It has made me a little money focussed, but I'm very much looking forward to paying off ALL my outstanding debts with my first pay cheque and probably buying myself a treat in the form of a new phone.
Goodbye equipment loan, goodbye student loan, goodbye bills, hello new phone.
The nerd inside me is very excited.
Now if you ask anyone who does shift work how they cope with the hours they will describe a varied array of techniques with which they trick their body's.
Phase one for me is always sleeping in. It's one of my favourite things already so I don't need much convincing.
Phase two is then staying up as late as possible and I normally achieve this on a diet of live comedy, gigs, movies, DVD's and general socialising.
Which would be fine if my life in the middle east wasn't bereft of live comedy, gigs, movies, DVD's and general socialising.
Lucky I've got an old friend here doing the same job as me.
Last night's solution was to go to a small Filipino bar in the back of a random hotel around midnight. After paying a $30 cover which made my gums bleed, we sat in a small confined space full of Asian's smoking relentless cigarettes and molesting the waitresses to the backdrop of Tina Turner.
When all the bars closed at 2am and we were turfed into the street. We went for a romantic walk along the waterfront to kill yet more time, before deciding to head back to my hotel because as luck would have it we'd decided to go for a walk on the only cold night of the year in the desert.
3:30am and we decide to order room service. My old mate has made himself at home under the blankets and we are watching Arab television. When room service arrives, the waiter insists on bringing the food into the room rather than handing me the tray at the door. He is all smiles 'till he sees my friend in the bed, at which point I'm flashed a look that says 'don't touch me', the tray is placed down quickly and he scurries out the door.
We have a good laugh, pick the cucumber out of sandwiches and pass out around 5.
Tonight to stave off sleepy bobo's I will be composing a musical, writing a small play and straightening all the items in my room until they are all perfectly perpendicular.
I've never really thought of 9 to 5 as being particularly lucky, but compared to 7 to 7, it's a holiday.
Still, the point of coming here was to earn some cash in a new environment, while it's tough, I'm happy to put my head down and get the work done. It has made me a little money focussed, but I'm very much looking forward to paying off ALL my outstanding debts with my first pay cheque and probably buying myself a treat in the form of a new phone.
Goodbye equipment loan, goodbye student loan, goodbye bills, hello new phone.
The nerd inside me is very excited.
Now if you ask anyone who does shift work how they cope with the hours they will describe a varied array of techniques with which they trick their body's.
Phase one for me is always sleeping in. It's one of my favourite things already so I don't need much convincing.
Phase two is then staying up as late as possible and I normally achieve this on a diet of live comedy, gigs, movies, DVD's and general socialising.
Which would be fine if my life in the middle east wasn't bereft of live comedy, gigs, movies, DVD's and general socialising.
Lucky I've got an old friend here doing the same job as me.
Last night's solution was to go to a small Filipino bar in the back of a random hotel around midnight. After paying a $30 cover which made my gums bleed, we sat in a small confined space full of Asian's smoking relentless cigarettes and molesting the waitresses to the backdrop of Tina Turner.
When all the bars closed at 2am and we were turfed into the street. We went for a romantic walk along the waterfront to kill yet more time, before deciding to head back to my hotel because as luck would have it we'd decided to go for a walk on the only cold night of the year in the desert.
3:30am and we decide to order room service. My old mate has made himself at home under the blankets and we are watching Arab television. When room service arrives, the waiter insists on bringing the food into the room rather than handing me the tray at the door. He is all smiles 'till he sees my friend in the bed, at which point I'm flashed a look that says 'don't touch me', the tray is placed down quickly and he scurries out the door.
We have a good laugh, pick the cucumber out of sandwiches and pass out around 5.
Tonight to stave off sleepy bobo's I will be composing a musical, writing a small play and straightening all the items in my room until they are all perfectly perpendicular.
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