Hump Day

Am I ever tired. I know I'm supposed to be happy to be able to do my part as a good little capitalist/consumer, but this two jobs thing is really starting to grind me down.
Now, I want to qualify the whining, puling, moaning, and general candy-*ss bellyaching that is to follow by saying that I'm glad I have work. Lots of people in my hometown don't, and would kill (or at least do serious bodily injury) for even one job that pays more than minimum wage. To them, I say: forgive me. It's no fun to be out of a job, any more than it's fun to work a job that is solid frustration and grief with no hope of betterment. (is that a real word?)
And that's kinda where I see myself, too. My "day" job is at a medical school, and it's just one more variation on your standard desk job with one hour commute. It makes me kinda miserable, but I guess I'll stick with it until something better comes along. Then there's my "night" job, which is at a plastics factory in my hometown. I work there at least three 12-hour shifts a week, more when I can get it. Believe it or not, I really like that job. I would say love, but it is a job, and work that you do for someone else is just never as good as work you do to accomplish something for yourself. Most of my graduating class works there, and it's so completely different from my other job that I think half of my enjoyment comes from the sheer novelty factor.
Of course, what I'd really like to do is just stay home with the kids. If I could magically make about 40K a year just appear out of thin air, I don't think I'd ever have another serious gripe in my life. And to those who know me well, yes, I only say that because I know the 40 grand will never materialize, so I don't have to worry about going completely against my sour, carping nature any time soon, understand?
The real gripe I have with things now is that I am never home, and I'm always exhausted. When they say that they use sleep deprivation as a means of coercion on Iraqi prisoners, I know for  a fact that they're using a guaranteed method. After you've gone just so long without sleep (around 50 hours in my case) every possible action - including thinking - just plain hurts. If somebody came to my desk today and told me that I could stop working all those hours if I would just tell them where Osama Bin Laden was hiding (and I knew, of course) then he'd be toast faster than you can say "forty winks."
But, since nobody is likely to come to my desk and do that (although pretty soon somebody IS gonna come around and ask when I'm actually gonna do some work), I guess I better get back to it. Rock on, people.