Every single night, I tell myself I’m going to go to bed by midnight. Seriously. Every. Single. Night. And then I always stay up until at least 1 o’clock.
When I have nights like last night, I realize THIS IS NO KIND OF GOOD. And I always say I’ll be better tomorrow.
I worked from home the last few weeks before Archer was born, and late was just the groove I got into. It’s the groove I always get into. If left to my own circadian rhythms, I’ll stay up later and later every night, and find myself waking up later and later every morning to compensate.
By the time I went back to work on July 1st, I was regularly staying up until around 4 o’clock, and sometimes later. Having to go back to work has tamed me to an extent, but I still love me some late nights.
Part of it, I think, is that the house is just soooo very quiet then. Like all the words in my life have been these bold, black, 62-point font Bauhaus words, all overlapping in my air, all day long. And all of a sudden, those words are gone, and I can hear the fan in the laundry room. And I can control the words. Because they’re mine. They’re lovely little Helvetica words with button noses. And they’re in thought bubbles.
Wow, I know exactly what you mean. When Michael and The Boy went outside this morning to prepare Micahel’s truck, I was struck by the silence. Then I was depressed because I knew I only had about 2 minutes before I had to leave the silence and head north in the car with a two-year-old who questions “why?” to every single statement I make.
On a happier note, I love logging into my Google Reader every morning this week and seeing a new post from Bethsix. :) Good blogging.
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Aww shucks. You so sweet, friend.
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