Four hours is nothing
Monday was my tenth consecutive workday without a day off. While that’s not the sort of thing that can ever be pleasant, thankfully it was an easy day at my regular job with no unexpected issues. My energy level was low, very low, but somehow I was able to muddle through. I made a couple of stupid mistakes, no doubt on account of my addled state of mind, but fortunately my mind was (just) clear enough to correct the mistakes. I was too achy for yoga or the gym, but we made a trip to the Roosevelt Field Mall. For ha has I counted the traffic lights: 30 of them, which is absurd given that most of the trip is on the Long Island Expressway. Once you get off at at Exit 40 there is just light after light after light in the five miles or so to the mall.
I had quite a bit more energy on Tuesday and made it through my regular job very easily. Speaking of easy things, my 8 to midnight shift at the Major Home Improvement Retailer was one of my easiest. Like Monday, Tuesday was a cool and rainy day, so there was nothing much going on in the outside garden area. I spent most of the shift indoors doing freight packout. In any event, it was really hammered home that a 4-hour shift is nothing at all compared to an 8-hour. It may be half the length but feels like a quarter the length or even less.