There's a vague sense of self destruction during my occasional ten hour shifts at work, the ache of my bones nagging for rest and relaxation, my usual mode of activity. Full consciousness returns and self reflection begins after a long afternoon rush. As I come to from the flow state of constant retelling of my customer service lines, I try to remember the people I just served. Most are on their daily side quests, and I meet them for only a brief few seconds. They're out the door just as quickly as when they first rushed in. They exist only in that moment, and then they disappear. Some speak to me, their presence solidifying into reality, no longer a faceless specter but a human being, and it wakes me up for a few seconds. Their eyes are deep brown, their face spotted with flecks of color and experience and life. A scar from childhood, a wedding ring, grayed strands of long hair. Our eyes meet for a little longer as they prepare to leave, and I can still see them for a while after they've gone. I then return to the recesses of my mind to finish my duty as I see the line of customers grow longer, and my window of brief sentience shutting closed. In my sporadic periods of downtime in between the waves of customers I prepare to make the next session of sleepwalking more peaceful. Restocking utensils, wiping tables, triple checking for new online orders, all so i can rest assured my unconscious flow state does not get interrupted.