I have been doing a lot of work for various TV stations recently and it has completely flipped my body clock. I get up each day at 4:30pm and piss about until I leave for work. I joyfully start my toil at 7:30pm and sit on my arse until I finish at 7:30am. I get home about 8:15, chill out for a bit and go to sleep at 9:30am. I then wake up and repeat. For 10 days in a row. My brain has melted slightly.
I feel like I am living in a reality that runs in parallel with most people’s but separate. I am going to work when everyone else on the train is on their way home. As I pass pubs I see people getting drunk at what feels like breakfast. When I return, bloodshot and bleary eyed, I have the satisfaction that I’m the only one going to bed in my carriage.
This is the life of a transmission controller doing the nightshift. We walk among you looking relatively normal. We work in dark rooms without windows. We literally watch tv for a living hoping it won’t break. We are the ones responsible for putting up ‘Sorry we are experiencing technical difficulties’ pictures as we panic and realise we’ve done something wrong. We are the ones who accidentally cut to ad breaks during football matches and have our bosses apologise to parliament. I personally made the papers when I broadcast full frontal lesbian porn to the middle east at 10am. There were surprisingly few complaints. Still, it pays the bills.
At least it’s summer – or what passes for summer in this cloudy isle. In winter, more than one nightshift means you can go for days without seeing daylight once. Fortunately I’m an upbeat character. Plus, if things ever get too depressing, I am in a job with internet access, not much to do, and a credit card. The possibilities are endless.
I now have a day off. I might catch up on some telly.