Friday, November 9, 2012

3 a.m.

I'm a night owl.  Anyone who has ever lived with me, or interacted with me before 10 a.m. knows I do not like mornings.  I wish I did, and I'm not one of those "don't talk to me before I've had my coffee" people, but I am a "don't expect my sentences to make sense until I've had my coffee" person.  I've spent some time working with youth, and by the end of a week long trip they started to replace my last name with Cranky.  Accurate.

That being said, as much as I loathe waking up, I love staying up late.  I look forward to the moment my second wind kicks in.  I can be tired all day, but be raring go by nightfall.  I love the way night time feels: dark, exciting, mysterious, magical.  It's like my frontal lobe regresses to my teenage self as the sun goes down and I start to believe I can do anything.  Life turns into a game of "good idea, fun idea" where all ideas seem fun AND good.

So while I'm single, childless, and without real employment, I have no excuse not to enjoy the crazy adventures that come when the sun sets.  Homework?  I'll do it tomorrow.  Sleep?  I'll do it tomorrow.  Quality time with quality people?  Not worth putting off for tomorrow.  Because tomorrow I might meet the love of my life, settle down, and become totally satisfied sitting at home every night.  (Just kidding, I'll always be too extroverted for that.  I'll be part of a couple that is still social.  Friends, you have my word.) 

3 a.m. I must be lonely? Dear Matchbox 20, you are wrong.  It's 3 a.m. I must be eating Mexican, going to get a milkshake, having a dance party, sharing secrets, rockin' on the porch, stargazing, skipping, and Living The Dream.

#sorrynotsleepy 

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