Well monster may be a pretty strong word, but it seems the shift morphs a person into one over time. Working 11 p.m. to 7 a.m. is tough in any industry. The plan is to go directly home and fall into a wonderful slumberland without tossing or turning or straring at the bright room wide eyed. You can plan in one hand and you know what you have in the other, something not as nice. Eating breakfast is an option, one that always made me sick to my stomach later when I would awake after a few hours of sleep. Working this graveyard shift invariably turns one into something that came from a graveyard. Family members call their third shifter a zombie for walking around half asleep. I like to call this zombieitis because it's a constant state.

I worked this shift for two years straight. I have children so it actually worked out decently with their afterschool activities and sports. I slept while they were at school and then would pick them up and do the soccer mom thing and spend the next two and a half hours to run them here and there and back again. Summer was a different altogether. They would arrive at 8 a.m. after I had been asleep for about an hour and about 50% of the time wake me up. That was my first summer on thirds, it was rough, and I was slowly changing into a ranting monster. I would rise from my grave at around noon or after and not eat lunch, because being up all night does something to your digestive track and the hunger response is just not there a lot of the time. The first meal of my day would be around 6 p.m. if I had cooked for my kids, then we would eat together. There might be a nap before heading to work and there is always always large amounts of caffiene to fuel the night.

My brother said it best when he stated, "I don't think I like you working third shift." This was most likely after I had told him the blatant truth about something that probably more sounded like biting his head off. I could hear myself changing. I listened to myself talking and not beating around the bush whatsoever to whomever I was talking to. I think some people who have known me a long long time were a little in shock to hear the new me. In a way, I really liked it. Being able to stand up for what is right is pretty important, so that part is a good feeling. The foggy head, not such a good feeling. Waking up with puffy eyes, dark circles and constant tiredness is a tough way to live.

I recently moved to first shift. I work a second on Tuesdays so I saw my recent partners dragging in for the graveyard shift last night. As we chatted, one used about every curse word I think ever invented, and this was just in normal conversation. The other girl stared around with wide glassy eyes and explained how she couldn't work the twelve hours the next day because she had worked two twelves and a ten just the days before. The third shift metamorphasis is working on them and reversing on me. I see myself mirrored in their movements, words and eyes. I will be savoring my sleep and my sanity for the next six months until we bid for our shifts again and I end up on the graveyard. I'm missing all my co-workers but happy for my children who are getting their old mom back, for awhile anyway, the monster is hibernating for now.