It's 3:04 AM. That's the title of this post, yes it is. And the reason is, that's the truth.
Oh, 3:05 already. 3:04 is in the past. It's over.
I am at work, in Lincoln, Neb., where I am a nurse on the night shift. I have a travel nursing contract here for a little while. I shant say anything about my work because that would be (a) illegal and therefore (b) cause for immediate termination and revoking of my license. So let's just say, I'm taking a break for a snack of chocolate chip cookies whilst my beloved patients slumber. And to write this note.
A person can accomplish quite a bit working the night shift in a hospital, theoretically when his/her patients are fast asleep and resting reasonably confortably thanks to the wonders of pain-controlling analgesics. Sometimes, the quiet doesn't last. Like many things of beauty, the silence is fragile. Shh.
But back to my productivity. When a person is forced to sit, and contemplate life, through nighttime hours of silence, it brings out the best or the worst in that person. Some people wallow in boredom, numbed by the enveloping dearth and the lack of stimulation. Then others, their imaginations run wild listening to the chorus of what would otherwise not be heard, due to competition from the noise of daily life. Your dreams? Your aspirations? Your bucket-list goals? These are spoken with the language of Quiet Times, of isolation, of working the night shift. Dreams are not forgotten. People just can't hear them anymore, once they start working and the blather of Daily Life fills their brains.
So shh. Listen. Do you hear them? They are still there, trying to get your attention. Don't hold a grudge against them. They never left you. Pick up where you left off, like old friends.
Still quiet. Shh.