I am at my best in the late evening and early morning, and this has been the case since I was boy. I go to bed around 03:00 and get up between 11:30 and 12:30. Then, I'm rarin' to go!
Growing up on the farm was not easy. My parents dictated a 'sensible' bedtime, but I would read by the light of a flashlight under the covers. I don't know how many times, when my Mum came in to my room at 05:30 to wake me for chores, I begged her to let me sleep 'just this one time'. Her response was always the same, 'If I let you sleep today, you'll want to sleep tomorrow'.
Becoming an adult didn't help much. My favourite shift was second, 15:00 or 16:00 until 23:00 or 00:00. On second shift, I could sleep in my preferred pattern, get up, have a coffee and run any necessary errands. After work, there was time for a pint at a pub, supper, and reading before bed.
Unfortunately, I spent most of my working life in retail, and there are very few second shift jobs in retail. A while before I retired, I ended up in management in a retail drug chain. My regularly scheduled working day was ten hours. Shifts normally ran from 06:00 to 16:00 or 12:00 to 22:00. The problem was that I might work the 'late shift' one day and have to be back at 06:00 the next. For some reason, we called that a 'California Turnaround'. Worse was an 'Oregon Trail', when because of a no show, I had worked 06:00 until 22:00 and had the early shift the next day.
However, at one point when our children were little, sleep became a luxury. In order for the Cuter & Shorter Half to stay home with the little ones, I worked two jobs. I worked a full time job that would have been ideal had it been my only one. I was a janitor, working from 18:00 until 02:00. During the day, however, I worked in a heavy appliance store, selling and delivering washers, dryers, stoves, TVs, and refrigerators.
Both were fairly demanding. When I got home at 02:00, it was a quick supper and bed, so I could be up to go to the store, usually around 11:00. I swear, I think the children sometimes thought I was the weird uncle who slept in the spare room. because he was homeless!
This is where the 'good night snack' started. Our middle son, Charley, was about four. He would hear me in the kitchen fixing my supper, and he would come out and ask, 'Daddy, can I have a good night snack?' So, I would have company as I ate in the middle of the night.
Now, I'm retired and I don't have to follow a schedule. I like to see the Cuter & Shorter Half before she leaves for work at noon, but she's not upset if I don't make it, so I've reverted to my natural (or unnatural) circadian rhythm.
I've never been much of a breakfast eater since I quit doing an hour or so of chores before breaking my fast on the farm. I get up so late that I seldom eat before the C&SH comes home from work shortly after 17:00. This means, however, that by midnight or so, I'm hungry again.
As I've mentioned several times (with pictures!), I bake all of our bread using the bread machine our youngest son, John, gave us. I also make a hearty 'pottage' out of beef bouillon (my daily 'meat taste', since the C&SH is a vegetarian), wheat berries, steel cut oats, barley, and yellow split pease.
So, usually shortly after midnight, I go out to the kitchen, put a thick slice of home baked bread in a soup plate, cover it with my pottage, and heat it in the microwave. However, I always tear a small piece off the slice of bread and lay it aside. Why?
Well, Charley is long grown, and a father himself now, but there's still someone who wants a 'good night snack'. The Household Canine, Maximus Barker-Leaper, comes out to the kitchen, and waits patiently until I finish. Then I take the piece of bread I've saved and wipe the soup plate with it. That goes into his bowl. He eats it, I give him a pat, and we go to our respective rooms, he to sleep and I to stay up for another couple of hours!
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I'm glad you still have company for your snack time! Enjoy your articles. God bless +JMJ+ amr
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