In which I admit defeat

For most of my EMS career, I've worked three shifts a week or less. Three 16s, 24/16, two 24s. I have spent over a decade with more free days than working ones.

Until last November, that is.

I had been stuck on weekends and hating it. With Beth in school, I was very upset to be working 24 hours on one of the only two days she was home, so I did something rash.

I volunteered for a four-by-12 schedule on the transfer truck. Everyone told me I would hate it, but I rationalized it. I would sleep in my own bed every night, and I would have Sundays off. The transfer truck goes everywhere and does everything; fun!

 

Yeah, right.

 

It took less than two months to bring me to a point of frustration equal to almost five years at my old job. I had gained Sundays free at the expense of three afternoons and most evenings. The trade off was simply not worth it.

Fortunately I was able to trade back into a pair of 24s, with no weekend. I'm counting the hours (96 to go. . .)

 

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