The weekend was a crazy one. Most think that I am making that statement because my daughter graduated this weekend, so there is an assumption that with family in town and all that life would be crazy. And while some of that may be true, the bigger truth is my weekend was crazy because three major events came together for a perfect storm of craziness.
Each month, I curate and host an art show and opening at a local club. This past weekend was the great "changing of the art" event where I typically spent about 4-5 hours at the club taking down last month’s show, coordinating the pickup of the art, coordinating the delivery of the new art, then put up the new show. This weekend, because of graduation, I did the minimum I needed to do, then put off the rest because I wasn’t going to have time.
Why didn’t I have time? Not because of graduation, but because of work. About 7 months ago, the company made a decision to change the way we did something. The change, however, to take effect required the company to give us a 12 hour outage window of one system, and a 60 hour outage window of another. Both were required as we had to run programs to update data in those systems, and you can’t run those program unless everyone is off the system.
The company decide that this weekend would be the perfect weekend to let us do it? 7 pm Saturday was when we could have the system.
Between Saturday morning and Tuesday morning, I have had 14 hours of sleep. Saturday, I was up all night. Sunday, I had a 2 hr nap followed by about 5 hours of sleep. Monday night, I got about 7 hours. Last night? I slept from 7:30 pm until 6:30 am……and I could have slept about 10 hours more.
Monday night as I am hanging art (the art I would have normally put up on Sunday), I was surprised at how awake I was. I even went home and was up for a few more hours. But yesterday during my manager meeting, I hit the wall. And I hit it hard. When I hit it, I went and got a diet coke wanting the caffeine. The caffeine did not help. As the meeting wound down and degenerated into bullshitting, I commented that I just needed to leave. "Oh, you have big plans, do you?" was the joke. Nope. I just knew if I didn’t leave now that I wouldn’t be able to get home safely. I was done.
I am too old for this shit. Or at least too old to do this shit without saying "fuck it – I’m taking a day off to recuperate."
Today I am more awake, but my memory is still shit – a sign that I’m still feeling the effects of sleep deprivation.
Yeah, I’m too old for this shit.