I'll sleep when I'm dead

Or that's how it feels at the moment. After my 'one night stand' at work on Wednesday night, I was back to the grind five minutes short of 24 hours after I'd signed off - we are, technically, supposed to have a minimum of 24 hours plus a shift, i.e. 32 hours in my case, rest between duties involving a change of shift, but hey - via a 4:15 alarm call. More of the same tomorrow, then a late shift on Sunday, before I'm back on nights from Monday. I am, quite frankly, bloody exhausted, and apparently coming down with yet another cold into the bargain, but I've got to keep going, because I simply can't afford to be sick at the moment. With the outgoings for the flat, and making sure K has what she needs, as well as supporting my ex, losing an extra Sunday and the enhanced night rate just isn't an option. I know very well that I'm far from unique in being in thrall to the bills, but there are times, and this is one of them, when I feel like I'm killing myself for very scant reward.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B