Night shift

I’m struggling to sleep. We did the night shift last night – 12am to 12 (ish) pm today. We were all like the living dead by the end, but annoyingly this has not translated into coming home and falling into a deep, blissful, 9-hour sleep. Thought about going for a swim, but I’m shattered and also have a cold, so knocked that one on the head. Instead I doused my pillow in lavender oil, closed my sort-of black out curtain and spent a fitful three hours dreaming about the custody suite. So now I’ve given up for a bit, and am sat in bed with a mug of Lemsip and a gooseberry yoghurt.

Night shifts definitely mess with your head. One of the custody sergeants told us the other day that long-term shift workers have a shorter lifespan. Whether that’s true or not, I believe him. I’ve done one this week and I’m shaky and wired. And I’m going to be back there again in six hours. ONE. That’s pathetic.

Maybe I should go out for a stroll, see the sights of Hull. So far, I like it, although we’re seeing at some odd times of the day. Apparently it was the most bombed city outside of London in the war. Considering how Coventry looks thanks to the Luftwaffe, I think parts of Hull are pretty beautiful. I just wish I could see more of it in daylight…