Every week, I promise myself I will get something done on my first rest day after my final night shift. Every week, I find myself merely trying to survive the day. The turnaround from day to night shift and the fatigue of working two nights in a row, actively working against my circadian rhythm just as my body has adjusted to one normal day.
The first rest day of four is, for all intents and purposes, a right off. No matter how hard I plan to get something done, it feels like I am fighting the physical, mental, and biological strain of night shifts. The guilt associated with making plans, especially in regards to running or fitness, is deepened when I eventually miss these on my first rest day.
Somehow I forget about just how fatigued I get on these first rest days. It is a tiredness that runs to my core. My muscles are sore, despite not having done any exercise. My mind is chaotic and tired. Every step, every decision feels like a major obstacle to get over.
Eventually I do by my second rest day... enough to think that maybe next week I'll be functioning on my first rest day again.
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