Late Night Talking [h.s.]

six

Love is a Losing Game - Amy Winehouse

Exhausting was just one word that I could use to describe my week. I had done two night shows so far, and I was getting ready to do a third, in addition to two day shifts I had interspersed between the nights. It was the most I had worked in a while.

I shut my laptop and rose from the position I had been in on the couch for hours to put it in my tote bag.

As I shuffled around my apartment, getting my things together for work, I realized how terrible this shift was about to be.

Unlike my previous shows, I hadn't created any of my own talking points for tonight. That has been what keeps me excited to host in the dead of night, but today, it's solely what Eric has chosen for us to talk about.

On one hand, it makes my job easier; all I have to do is follow a preset script.

On the other hand, I have no interest in talking for hours about subjects not of my choosing.

I slipped on my black vans, said goodbye to Teddy, and swung open the door.

A tiny, miniscule, barely even noticeable part of me wished when I'd open the door that Harry would be there. Far too often, he's in the hallway when I least expect it.

To my dismay (tiny and miniscule and barely even noticeable as it may be), he wasn't there.

Trying not to miss a beat, I walked to my car and drove to work, preparing for the seven grueling hours ahead of me.

...

Alice was my sound tech tonight, once again. She was already there, at the soundboard when I walked in. She was notoriously punctual, which was just one of the many things that made her a joy to work with - punctual getting to work, and leaving. She always reminds me when it's our time to go.

What a blessing she is to this studio.

"Hey," I muttered to her.

"Your vibe is terrible today. No offense."

"None taken." I shrugged my shoulders. A small laugh shook in my chest, compensating for the fact that she just read me like a book. "I think I'm in a funk. Maybe it's the night shifts catching up with me."

"Maybe," She nodded. "Thank god we aren't nurses."

I laughed with her again.

In reality, I knew exactly where my "funk" was coming from. It was burnout.

I love my job, and I'm glad I took the promotion. It was a great opportunity for me to work more independently in the studio. But the rate at which I was working during the night is more than I've ever been used to. I'm sure I'll adapt to the schedule change soon.

So far though, I've been a little disappointed by the lack of creativity that I've been able to have on my end. With the promotion, I thought I'd be fully, independently hosting, but that hasn't happened yet.

Cary walked out of the booth as his shift ended, snapping me out of my daze. He greeted me briefly before making a break for the door and leaving as soon as he could.

I slipped into the recording booth, putting a pair of headphones over my ears and getting situated in the spot I'd be in for the next seven hours, approximately.

After introducing myself and presenting some of the news of the night, it felt like I could kick back and relax.

For a while, it felt like time was going relatively fast. Eric's playlist was fine, but nothing to write home about. All I had to do was queue up the songs and occasionally talk. It was a fine night.