ZZZzzzzzzzzz

I've just got up.

I know but i do have a decent excuse, I'm lazy AND I've just done the longest shift in my life and it feels really weird.

I've been helping a mate out with some work and it's meant working through the night with no time to prepare. At my time of life, when the days of 18 hour shifts are way behind me, it's good to see if you can still do it so I agreed.

It started on Monday night. We had to work in Manchester, starting at 11 pm so I had to set off from here at 7.30. I got back, feeling pretty tired at 6am tuesday and went straight to bed where I then spent about 5 hours lying there, half asleep worrying about the even longer shift to follow.

Tuesday night was the bugger as it was in Bluewater (just off the M25) and started at 10pm. I set off at half seven (having had very little sleep in the day) and worked straight through until 8.30 Wed morning. (I was atop a scaffold tower lifting very heavy signs into place) I THEN had to travel into Bromley to do a days work at another shop before carrying on to meet someone in Thames Ditton at 5.30pm and drive back home through the rush hour to arrive back here last just in time for the second half of the Liverpool Match.

why am I telling you all this?

well it's a very weird feeling is why.

I was awake from about midday tuesday until about ten last night which is 34 hours and, apart from napping in my van for half an hour waiting for the person in Surrey, it was spent either driving or working. I feel like it was more like 34 days.
I've polished off 19 bottles of lucozade and had three mild road rage incidents with the good people of the North Circular all through some kind of misty serenity. I've eaten very little when normally I'd be stopping at every McDonalds along the way.
The sound of birdsong has become like torture for some reason. I was euphoric for almost all of the night shift in Bluewater to the point that I had to be hushed from singing from my scaffolding tower and found myself dancing while trying to have a pee at the side of the A1.
I've just been told that I had two conversations with a mate yesterday that I have no recollection of and, as far as I can tell, my driving was excellent. there was no droopy eyelid syndrome (which I usually get after a long day and have to pull over) and, in spite of the road rage, I was a generally happy chicken with tiny mood swings at odd moments.

I write this because it's amazing to see how easily the body can become disoriented in a very short time.
today I have nothing to do and I feel the need to write but there's a sensation that I've forgotten to do something mixed with the feeling that I've just got out of prison and, in a nutshell, my arse doesn't know where my head is at.
I think it's because I spent a lot of the time waiting for something to go wrong. I'd made plans to sleep at the road side in case my driving became dangerous and went over the routes across and through London so many times that the map was never out of my hand when stationary even though I know the area well enough. I expected my short term memory to suffer but, apart from the map remembering which was more paranoia, I was sharp as a tack so I think it's actually a sense of anticlimax that has probably got me writing this post, or maybe a renewed vigour brought on by having done a major bit of bloody hard graft for a change and so justified my existence for a bit.

.. oh, and I've become spotty overnight.

anyone else done any major shifts recently with unexpected sensations?