I'm not one to moan...

...But I hate working nights. I've only done 1 and already I am confused. When you get out of bed in the afternoon, do you eat breakfast? Or lunch? Do you try and keep to your normal routine, or take a break from all activities until the shifts end?. As a creature of habit I find it particularly tough to embrace the enforced changes, and am all at sea during these nocturnal shifts. And I have found myself harking back to yesteryear,  to a time  when life was so less complicated. 

In 1987, after I had completed my O levels and was awaiting my results I worked for my Auntie in her city centre cafe, Sheer Delight, (the name of the cafe, not my state of mind.) I was drafted in to make and sell doughnuts from a window which opened out onto the street. My duties included preparing the mix, making the doughnuts, then selling them to the public of Liverpool. Following a couple of days training, practising the dropping of the dough into the hot fat, (by far the most skillful and important part of doughnut making) I was ready. I got into work early and prepared my mix with enough made to feed a small tribe. The window was opened, I sat on my stool.....and waited, And waited. And waited. To say business was slow would be the understatement of the year. At the end of the day I had made £4 worth of sales. @ 5 doughnuts for a £1 it was nothing short of disasterous, even more so when you consider I was commanding a wage of £7  per day at this time. The following day was marginally better with £7 taken although we were still operating at a substantial loss. It was at this point that I made a decision that was to prove inspirational, and send sales through the roof. A local printer was contacted and posters were made advertising Liverpool's hottest new stall. They were strategically placed around the cafe window's, in full view of the many passers-by. The result was remarkable as sales soared to well over £125 per day. At times it was difficult to cope with the demand as queues formed around the block. I was in my element, exchanging banter with my customers, some of whom returned daily. Although I never managed to secure a profit-share, (my £7 wage never changed) I was allowed to eat as much as I wanted, and I took full advantage. By the time I left to start college I was considerably heavier as the daily cakes and pastries took their toll. The only downside to a golden summer was an eventual hatred of ring doughnuts as I had eaten so many I became sick of them. I did manage to overcome this problem, and I enjoy them occasionally now, but it took years of doughnut-rehab to get me there.