I called in sick today, even though I really could have gone in to work. I was just massively tired and felt like I deserved it, but now I just feel guilty. I'm not the kind of person to call in sick unless I absolutely need to, but ever since I started working at 3 am two days a week, my body has decided to go on strike. I'm constantly exhausted and today when I woke up, my internal dialogue went something along the lines of, "You're not leaving this bed until you get 12 hours of sleep." Something strange has happened since I took on the morning shift. I feel like a different person. I'm tired and cranky a lot of the time. All I want to do is sleep for hours and hours. Last night I went to a party with my boyfriend after work and stood there the whole time, making no attempt to socialize. I'm not the most outgoing person, but I can usually get a conversation going, yet last night I sat in a chair with my beer wanting nothing more than to go home and curl up in my comforter. My boyfriend wound up driving me home and then going back to the party, and then I wound up crying hysterically once I got home because I felt abandoned. I think I am turning into a mess.

A point of concern for me is that I've been thinking about killing myself a lot lately. I know I'd never really do it, but the thought keeps circulating in my mind and increases on the days where I go to work at 3 am. I've come to dread those days. Some people can work overnight; I'm finding out that I absolutely cannot. What makes it worse is that I only work that shift two days a week so my body never has a chance to adjust. Right now I feel like my job is ruining my life. It's disrupted my sleep schedule immensely, which causes me to be extremely tired all of the time. Because I work weekends and go to bed early during the week, my social life has taken a hit, so I feel lonely and abandoned. And somehow I'm convinced that the lack of sleep and my loathing for what I do is breeding depression.

I've heard the phrase, "In this economy, you should be thankful for your job," countless times. And I agree. I know life isn't all about going out on weekends. I know life is hard, but right now, life seems too hard. I almost don't see the point of going on anymore. People tell me to think positively, but I don't think people really understand that sometimes that's just not possible. If all I had to do was think positive thoughts, I wouldn't be so miserable.

I've always been kind of a baby. I need my sleep. In college my roommate would always go out until five in the morning. I did that a few times, then quickly learned the hell that would follow for the next few days. Some people can go out, drink, eat crap all the time, never work out and be fine. I am not one of those people. The television industry caters to the former. There are no set hours. If you're out on a story and your deadline is approaching, you sacrifice food. Oftentimes you resort to McDonald's drive-thru. There's constant stress, and to show for it, a meager paycheck that will barely cover rent and food for the month. I don't know why anyone would strive to be in TV.

The more I think about it, the more I realize that my job is to blame. If I were doing something I loved and looked forward to, something that allowed for normal sleep times, I probably wouldn't feel like ramming my car into a wall all the time. I've got to get out of this job.