They say that stepping out of your comfort zone once in a while is good for you. I’m not quite sure how the “they” people came to this conclusion, and now that I think of it, I’m even less sure that I’m the “you” person they were talking about.
I think by now everyone here knows I work nights in the local superstore. I live in a twilight existence where I spend my nights moving things from one place to another, and very often back again. It’s a bit like spending my working hours doing jigsaw puzzles, every now and then I’m given a nice simple puzzle to do and the items I’m moving slot perfectly into place. When this happens I’m reminded of those chunky wooden puzzles I used to do with the girls when they were little, but usually my puzzles are like jumble sale puzzles. They often have pieces missing, they have extra pieces which quite possibly should belong in a different puzzle completely, and I’m very seldom surprised when the pieces of the puzzles bear no resemblance at all to the picture I’ve been given.
However, something I do enjoy is a good puzzle, be it a small puzzle with big chunky pieces, or a big puzzle with tiny pieces. I enjoy finding a place for everything and there is a definite level of satisfaction when I manage to pull the pieces together to make a new picture.
I’m in the middle of two week stint of working with the daywalkers on one of the biggest puzzles I’ll ever be part of, we’re putting together a new store, you can imagine how many puzzle pieces this involves.
For last week, and this week, I’m getting up while I would normally be in work and going to bed when I would be heading off to work, my body clock thinks I’ve completely lost the plot.
I’m a bit of a loner, I do actually enjoy my own company. I’m often to be found just wandering off somewhere with my camera, or sitting with my feet up to a good film, knitting needles in hand and although I’m always happy to pass the time of day and share a smile with anyone and everyone, I very seldom make lasting friendships. I probably overshare on a daily basis, I natter when I’m nervous, but the real me stays locked away inside, and I can count the number of people who really know me on just one hand.
Imagine my surprise, and subsequent delight when, after only a couple of days into my daywalking I had messages, in the plural, that I was being missed in the twilight zone. A strange mixture of feelings indeed when l realised I was missing the messengers too.
I have another week to go in this strange daylight world, I’m slowly getting used to sleeping right through the night without being woken up by my hungry stomach at my usual lunchtime or needing to get up for a drink at tea-break in the wee hours of the morning, I didn’t quite make it all the way through my day off without a nap, but I think I can be excused as we did spend a big chunk of the day walking along the canal from Kidlington to Oxford.
The next week of daywalking should be a bit more settled, but I’m looking forward to returning to my comfortable twilight zone at the end of it. Not, I will add here, because of a dislike of the daylight hours, I’m pretty certain I could get used to that again, but more because I’m feeling a bit like a fish out of water. I’m not going to go back to my little goldfish bowl where everything is familiar but I’m sure I’ll soon settle into my new fishtank and get used to the new fish also living there.
Unlike a week ago, I now have no doubt that in another week I will have survived my two weeks of daywalking and will take more than just a few happy thoughts with me, but I think the best thoughts are that when the time comes, and I have reason to move out of my twilight existence, I will have my two week practice run to look back on to tell myself that I can do it.