Working the zombie shift is tuff. Respect is due to all those who roam the earth during the night policing the streets, changing bed pans, mopping floors, and baking donuts. My days and hours blur together. Trying to make contact with me is difficult. My sleepy ears ignore the phone. If per chance some one does get a hold of me, my communication skills are very primary and monosyllabic. My family had great "family" news. And I was the official last to know person. *sigh*. I am off for the next couple of days. Perhaps, after I sleep over the next few to ten hours, I will arise and become a member of the waking world that hears the phone ring.