this self isolation sucks, fortunately I have a fulltime night job

It’s true, I have been working my butt off every single night for a week now! What did I do to deserve this I wonder? The sad part is that it seems I have three freaking jobs, one is not enough, but three.. really? I just get back to sleep after a bathroom break (it’s an old people thing) and I’m onto another Jobsite. The daunting part about these jobs is that there is always a crisis! It’s always about food and catering, not a happy ending in any of them, well they never really end. At least with an unfulfilled sexual dream, you can remedy that upon awaking. These catering dreams with shortages of food still haunt me hours after I wake. If I go back to bed and sleep once more, my dream has the staff not showing up for work. It’s a vicious circle and as real as me sitting right here plugging away on my old computer.

So my days are never-ending stretches of doing nothing, although I still require my afternoon naps, doesn’t even make sense, does it? That is until you enter my world at night, and bring an apron because I will be putting you to work for sure. My dream the other night had me bartending, of all things, in a blue satin ball gown like that girl in the frozen movie. I was pushing a drink cart and serving ‘mudslides’ (yes a favorite drink of mine) but I had no glasses and no ice and I was moving through three connected venues of three separate weddings. The bartenders at each venue were not happy with me. I wasn’t happy with them either, they wouldn’t give me any latitude to sell my drinks, or give me glasses or ice. I was not exhausted yet but just frustrated as hell.

Thank goodness it was time for a bathroom break. I went from selling mudslides from a cart to operating a food truck and breaking every food safety rule, right in front of the health inspector. He was about to read me the riot act when mother nature called again. My next job landed me at a potash mine site feeding 800 miners lunch. We were short-staffed due to a union rule (no one under 18 yrs allowed on site) so I had to call on the office people and the managers of the mining company to pass out plates and help cook burgers. I want to say here that although we had many adventures in catering, we never ever ran out of food, and we successfully pulled off every event we booked.

Waking up exhausted and stressed out and realizing it was all a dream, still takes a toll. Sadly, I don’t get paid for taking these night shifts, fact is I’m retired and maybe this is payback for all the child labour my kids put in. We were a family-based operation that my son eventually bought and took over. Thank goodness we are all out of it now, these Covid times are decimating this industry in particular. Yet still in dreams exists a whole nighttime full of catering events operating in ‘crisis mode’  dreams or nightmares of all who have or had food businesses. I don’t think I will ever be free of it, I know my son has these dreams as does my daughter-in-law.

Well, I finally caught a break, after a few days off from writing, my dream last night was not about food. Instead, it was all about my kids, and an ex-husband as well, my hell is now complete. Everyone was on motorcycles and we were out beside an ocean, and even my little granddaughter was on a dirt bike. These kids were biking up a storm and even the littlest one jumped hers off a sand shelf and into the ocean and swam easily back to shore. Lordy, Lordy, I didn’t even have a chance to save her, even if I coulda scrambled off that sand shelf.. I know, don’t even go there it’s not pretty. It’s a good thing she can swim, now if it was the Ex, he would drown for sure, he can’t swim, and dare I say, I can’t scramble. Ah well…

Some people I know say they never dream and I am in awe of that. How is it some remember vividly and others, not at all? Is there a reason for this I wonder? Answers to questions I have been seeking have come to me in dreams a few times. Other dreams send my loved ones back to me. I am always so happy to see them, but upon awakening, it’s always a bitter disappointment to realize they are not here after all.

This covid thing has me with way too much time on my hands, analyzing my dreams is totally useless. My only wish is to get paid for all this night shift work, it’s so exhausting. I need to start a go-fund-me page.

Please send money to

The End