Fuddland

In preparation for my night-shift duties at the Crisis shelter, I’m staying up as late as I can manage tonight, to begin shifting my bodyclock towards the nocturnal mode of life. Having never done anything like this before, I’m unsure just how many of the traditional day-to-day activities can be simply shifted eleven-or-so hours without society cocking its collective head to one side and frowning disapprovingly.

For example, I suspect no-one will have a problem with me having my “breakfast” — tea and toast or cereal — at eight o’clock at night, but when I come home from a hard day’s work at around nine o’clock in the morning, would it be acceptable to crack open a few beers as I relax in front of the telly before heading to bed? [Perhaps the fact that I’d be watching daytime television talkshows is justification enough for hitting the bottle, night-shift or no night-shift?]

The following is an entry which follows on from the above:

1. First night [Fuddland]. Excerpt: The first night at Crisis was fantastic: lovely volunteer people, and genuinely grateful [for the most part] guests. I was really nervous to begin with, and for extra fun my first task [with my fun new pal Sarah--you're always with...