This is one of those days where time is very tight when it comes to doing things like blogging, which is why I’ve been away from it for the most part for so long.
I never know from day to day what my schedule is going to be like, until I call in at mid-afternoon to see what my schedule for the next day is going to be. I’m not a “regular” with predictable work hours on a daily basis yet.
I worked a late shift last night, capped off by driving a natural gas hybrid bus on a round trip up north that covers around 90 miles, but it takes a little over two hours in each direction. After a round trip on a shorter route to start my work day, the round trip on the longer route started close to 8:30 p.m. and didn’t end until around 12:30 a.m. I didn’t get out of the garage to go home until just after 1 a.m., it takes at least 20 minutes to drive home mostly on the freeway from downtown Salt Lake City, and I had to get something to eat once I got home.
I like to drive our daughter to school in the mornings. With my work hours, that’s usually about the only time I get to see her on work days, about a half-hour. So my sleep this morning amounted to just over three hours. I’m feeling it. So if I’m going to turn this blogging thing back into a regular, daily effort I need to make this quick and sweet because I’m going from a late night shift where I get home in the wee hours of the morning to an earlier afternoon shift where I get home … well, not quite so late but still late.
Maybe I’ll get to squeeze in some nap time after wolfing down some cereal for a mid-morning breakfast.
It’s all part of that “middle class life,” although these days it feels closer to “lower middle class” at best. We work our tails off, stress over (not) making ends meet, try and squeeze in some family time where we can find it, get as much sleep as our schedules allow, and start all over again the next day.
That’s life in our little corner of the world. When there’s more time, I’ll tell about the kinds of people I come across in my work day. There are plenty of stories to tell there — poverty, middle class, upper class.
For now, my “batteries” need recharging.