So tomorrow there’s just two more evening shifts left, and then there’s the night shift weekend.
There’s a cup of tea sitting on my old fish salting barrel with some Pukka Night Time and a dash of honey. I do like to treat myself to a nice cup of tea in the evenings, half imagining myself as a proper English tea drinker.
Perhaps an understated English Lord, sitting in all peace on his estate.
Or maybe just a Norwegian shift worker, trying to squeeze some comforts out of life.
That is a joke.
I am surrounded by an ever increasing amount of comfort, and right now I would have it no other way.