I never adjust well to early work days.
Most of the last couple of years, I had work which didn’t need me to be in work until around 10:00. Sure, I work later in the evening, but the ability to sleep until 8:30 (let’s be honest, more like 9) was quite good for me. My current job has me get into work around 7:30-8:00, and the adjustment is…hard.
For many years–mostly when I worked with kids as a counselor, teacher, coach and so forth–I worked early days, getting into work (in some cases) as early as 6:30 or 7:00. Not farmer hours, but early. And I did it for years, and was almost always on time. I never adjusted to it. I was always tired in the morning.
I’ve noticed that I feel best when I sleep from the times of 1am -9am, approximately. That’s my natural schedule, and the closer to it I can sleep each night, the happier I am. This job I’m working at is a contract, and it will last another couple (or a few, depending) months, and I will try (if possible) to get more accommodating working hours.
Last night, I was having a conversation about school hours. My interlocutor is a teacher, and she was telling me how they shifted the school day a bit earlier, which was a bit annoying because it gave her less time to get prepared for the day. The reason? The football team often needed to travel for games, and the whole school adjusted their schedule to accomodate the football team. Because the football team is what received millions of dollars, and is what matters.
No matter that numerous studies (see these articles; one, two, and three, for example which link to some of these studies) show that earlier school starts are problematic for most students, because football is what matters.
Don’t get me started on how much I dislike football, and football culture, in America. All the bros watching well paid men give each other head injuries which will, possibly, give them long term cognitive problems. And, of course, the college, high school, and kids leagues which participate in this culture, which leaves many kids prone to similar problems. All the while academics are left behind, in many cases. And for what? A game?
Granted, I like some sports. I enjoy watching hockey, soccer (the real ‘futbol’), and even baseball occasionally, but I would not miss any of them, significantly, if they disappeared. They are not what I value about our civilization. I would not mind if they ended up, in the future, being semi-pro leagues which people mostly play for fun, than what we have now. Our modern day gladiator matches are not raising us up, they are distracting us from things that actually matter.
I don’t run into the world of sports all that often. Most of my friends and acquaintances are fairly separate from this world, and so this is not a thing which I spend a lot of time thinking about. But last night’s conversation left me feeling angry, disappointed, and frustrated with our culture.
We are at a time, in the next few decades, where our culture will shift in some significant ways (I hope). As the older, and more conservative, generations die off, we will see shifts in voting patterns, how the media and entertainment worlds communicate with us through newer technology, and we will have to see if and how this aspect of our culture evolves.
More likely, the cultural divides will remain in place, and nothing will fundamentally change. That is, after all, how it;s been for centuries.
Meh, so much for optimism.
I’ve been thinking, a lot, recently.
I mean, sure; I have a degree in philosophy. It’s a thing I do.
But, I mean, a lot more than usual.
I’ve been reading, too.
More than usual. History of Tea, Tennyson, Norman Mailer, Montaigne, Neil Gaiman, and some others which are not coming to mind right now.
But I have not been writing.
And here’s the thing, I’m OK with it. If you had asked me, a year ago, if I was OK when I wasn’t writing, I would have said no. I connected (conflated?) writing and mental soundness in a way that, I’m seeing now, is not the only way I know how to be.
I don’t know, going forward, how much I will write. I will write. I love writing. It is a part of my healthy thinking and emotional expressive self, but it is not necessary. I love it, but I don’t need it in the same way. If I don’t have it, I am still me, and I can still thrive.
(Oh, God yes, that’s also partially metaphorical and symbolic. The day my writing is not is the day they take away the degree in philosophy, OK?)
But I still love writing, and I always will.
And that’s all I have to say, right now.
I was listening to Pink Floyd’s, Dark Side of the Moon just now, and i intended to come over here to write about how this album is more than 40 years old, how that felt weird, and how the song that was playing was Time. Hence the title above, which will remain because fuck titles.
Also, that album came out when my mom was in high school (or around when she graduated, if memory serves). That’s weird to think about. Hell, my daughter (given up for adoption many many years ago, I don’t think I’ve mentioned that here, previously) is in high school by this point.
And now, as I’m typing these words, my favorite part of the album approaches.
“The lunatic is on the grass…..” That’s where I was at that point, if you’re curious.
I also listen to a lot of new stuff. I love the new albums by The Bird and the Bee, Made in Heights, and The Arcs (for example).
You know what, I’m not even editing this shit. Y’all are just gonna have to deal with that.
I’m back, people. I’ve been away for too long. But I’m happy, healthy, and I am optimistic for the first time since my shitty road started years ago.