Some months ago I received a promotion that signaled the end of 10 years on the night shift and introduced me to the world of 9-to-5 employment.
While it's no secret that day shift employers in our department view off-shift hours as something akin to Siberian exile, I have yet to learn exactly why they hold the privilege of working away the best part of the day in such high regard.
Nine to five has nothing over the night shift.
The first thing I noticed is that there are a lot of people in the office during the day.
This can be very disorienting to someone who is used to hearing the sound of echoing footsteps while walking down the hallways.
The second revelation was, there are a lot of people outside the office during the day, as well.
It's very difficult to run to the ATM, drop off the film at the Photo Depot and pick up an extra large
chili and the Wendy's drive-thru during a half-hour lunch break when you have to wait in line at every stop.
Then, after a few weeks, certain questions began to occur to me. How, for example, was I supposed to make a dental appointment?
And what about banking or taking my car to the mechanic or going to the doctor or even picking up my mail?
I posed these questions to some of the more experienced nine-to-fivers and received a few curious looks and an exasperated, "You take time off from work, of course."
And people used to think I was crazy when I told them I liked working nights.
The problem is, day people are so chauvinistic and set in their ways that they will never be able to discover the many good points of working off-hours.
They are, like most Americans, convenience-oriented. They don't want to have to hoard dimes and quarters so they can operate the few functioning vending machines in our company's cafeteria.
They prefer to deal with a real human being who gives out change; never mind that they have to wait in line.
Worst of all, life on the day shift is bland and unexciting. During daylight hours, everything is so available to you that you become complacent.
At night, if you need something, you have to seek out the nearest 24-hours store (which you know as well as your bank-card code) and, once there, you will find fewer, but infinitely more interesting, people both shopping and waiting on you.
(You go to Price Chopper at 2 PM and I'll go to a Convenient Mart at 2 AM and we'll see who comes back with a better story.)
Television at any time of the day is an utter wasteland, so there is no disadvantage in viewing hours.
The problem is, by the time you get out of work, get the kids from the sitter, finish dinner and wash the dishes, it's 7:30 PM.
You can't run any of the errands you usually did on your off-hours, you can't go skiing or out for a bike ride or any of the other things you used to do when you had your days free.
All you can do is grab a six-pack, slump onto the sofa and watch Vanna spin some letters.
After a few weeks of this, your I.Q. score will begin falling in inverse proportion to your weight gain; some time later you will notice you are sprouting roots.
There are some good points about working days, however. I'm finding I no longer have to justify my existence very time someone asks me what hours I work, and dawn is sort of interesting, though I'd enjoy it a lot more if they scheduled it for some time around noon.
Despite all the disadvantages, I'm learning to adjust. I'm losing the habit of hoarding change in my desk drawer and can no longer recite from memory the name and location of every store in the Capital District that's open past 2 AM.
But the other day a special assignment came up that would require someone to work a few weeks on the night
shift--and guess who volunteered for it?
