It's something when you're supposed to be working nights, and you're still getting up at 5:45 or 6 in the morning. In a few minutes I'll be leaving to drive downtown, looking snappy in my dark suit, to put in 4 hours of private security work as the shopping center trade show closes. Then it's back to work from 1-9:30pm. It's a blessing that I can adjust my hours so I can start and come home early.
My two fellow supervisors are both away working on a murder task force, so I have a good amount of administrative busywork to do this afternoon. I had a job dumped in my lap, organizing an honor guard presentation for 9/11; nice job since we don't yet have our own flags/poles or blank-firing M-1 rifles. I have the next 2 days to scrounge up some rifles from the local VFW or American Legion. The number of rifles I can get (if any) will determine the number of people I need and the manner of the presentation, and I scheduled two short training sessions Saturday and Sunday afternoon. So, I'm supposed to be working nights, my body is telling me I'm working nights, my head is throbbing and my stomache hurts. But I'm working days.
I can't wait till Tuesday. Sleep.