the night shift

I've heard it said one too many times now that the life of a graduate student is characterized by sleeplessness, exhaustion and physical misery. While I do not doubt that this is indeed the case for some graduate students I also do not doubt that this is equally descriptive of much of humanity.

I spent the majority of my nights in the year of 2002 tending the desk at a hotel on the shores of Bedford Basin. Come, 4 am, or second break, I'd smoke two cigarettes and spend what remained of the fifteen minutes in the bathroom running water over my eyes. When I turned off the stream, I'd look in the mirror, and I could see that I was very tired, and when I returned to the lobby I could see that the security guards, the taxi drivers, and the other auditors were very tired too. Many of whom had more reason to be tired than me, some had families who wouldn't let them sleep during the day, others had two jobs to work to support children of sometimes many marriages, and still others, who in their coldness, seemed to make everyone more tired by either putting someone down or sadly elicitng sympathy for themselves.

People get dreadfully tired, living can make people dreadfully tired. I'm tired too, but I'm almost certain my tiredness cannot be reduced to the fact that I'm enrolled in, and attend courses in a graduate program. I find the desire to personally own misery very strange - how can it belong to anyone alone? And, I can't help but thinking that this must somehow make it all harder for yourself, and consequently, for others.

Maybe I missed the joke, ok, even (especially) jokes wear themselves out.