of the most banal journal of all time:

The Chronicles of Why Did I Sign Up For Twenty-Two Consecutive Shifts Without Even One Day Off.

Get ready to not give a shit as I record my inevitable descent into despair/insanity/hallucinatory levels of sleep deprivation/a combination of these.

Day 1 was ok. I felt reasonably lucid considering my slight hangover, and managed to maintain amiable relations with those around me. Co-workers’ reactions to news of my imminent work schedule were variously incredulous, pitying, amused, mocking and wtf.

Listened to: shuffle.

Consoled myself with: mentally caressing the consumer items I will purchase with my inordinate wealth. Have not yet countenanced the fact that I will probably have to spend most of it on therapy.