I won't deny that I am anxious, doing the night shift all alone in the hotel. The constant noise from the TV, the music channel, my only and not very comforting company - rappers exhorting half-naked girls to shake their booty somehow don't seem to understand my loneliness and weariness.
It's not so much that I'm nervous of the dangers of the night or scared of the darkness. OK, maybe a little, but I push that fear aside while walking the endless corridors and venturing into the dark corners when necessary. Even the overgrown jungle that goes by the name of "garden" doesn't get my pulse racing much. The drunken men staggering in after a pub crawl don't worry me either, although I make silent wishes that they won't linger in the hotel bar for a beer but crawl straight to their room and into bed.
Perhaps it's only my weariness, that ancient instinct of seeking the refuge of home when darkness falls. Or the loneliness. Or the heartbreaking fact that I can't seem to make myself love this job either, as I can't love any job no matter how much I try - and the consequence, the depressing realisation that life may always consist of a vague dread of daily life. Or nightly life.
5 comments:
So is it only when you are somnolent that you feel this way or are you generally fraught with fears such as these?
well written!
Well, a free bird would always begrudge a cage. A job, maybe, is a cage. And, of course, it does certain things to you.
The weariness. Hmm. Maybe it's the harder to get over that.
At least you can write.
Being the fervent admirer of women (If you have noticed. Heh.) my computer, and my 'scope are both feminine.
And, of course, I do admire you!
Annie > I'm at my most vulnerable at night... and still I love the stillness and darkness somehow. Maybe that's where I really see myself as I am.
Prince > If I can learn to love my cage, it will cease to be a cage. So I will keep trying. Some days (and nights) are better than others, that's life.
And I think we relate better to our computers if they are of the opposite sex. At least we have something to blame our irritation on. A "men are from Mars, women are from Venus" thing...
Yeah. The night is the time for half-concious thoughts. I have a dread for the night, when one isn't able to perceive properly. Maybe it's just one of those instinctive throwbacks from centuries: the 'witching hour, when the good things of the world begin to droop and drowse...'
Post a Comment