Wasn't so, so bad. Just bad.

I found out the worst part about working Christmas Day wasn't the fact that I was missing cheesy potatoes and pumpkin pie. Though, yes, now that I mention it, I could use some of that, please.

It was staying up.

I was working about two to three hours after I'd usually be sleeping. It didn't hit me til I got home and started to whine, or until this morning when I thought about poking my eye out so I wouldn't have to go to work. Or at 2 p.m. today when I wanted a nap.

Dave. You second-shifter, you. There's a reason I only see you at work. Days are so long, man.