It’s taken less than 2 weeks of unpaid vacation and general time-wasting, but I seem to have reverted to my natural state of being. That state, of course, is nocturnal.
I can’t get to sleep before 4am. I’m cranky if someone dares wake me before noon. At least sweet, sweet TiVo spares me the bad infomercials I formerly watched.
Now I just watch bad movies that I taped months ago under the mistaken impression they’d be good because someone, somewhere told me they were. Yeah, apparently, 95% of the time, people are full of shit.
It’s kind of frightening that I can revert to being a total night owl this fast, especially because I know it’ll take months to be comfortable with getting up at 6am again.
Probably just enough time for the 2-week christmas hiatus to arrive, and this whole jolly cycle to start all over again.
If there is one nice thing about living right on a major thoroughfare, it’s that you’re constantly reassured that you’re definitely not the only one awake. The sirens tell you that at least a few cops and firemen are up. And crooks and arsonists.
Even on nights where sirens are at a minimum, the constant rush of speeding drunks and cokeheads is enough to assure me that at least I’m not the only fucker awake.
For the most part, however, it’s enough to make me think I should at least commit to doing something useful with my summer. I should start laying down tracks for a new album. I should redesign my website.
Maybe I should actually do something that would (gasp) help others. A revolutionary concept for a navel-gazer such as myself, but apparently even I can get bored of listening to myself talk.
Who knew?
We’ll see how taking my car to the shop at 9am tomorrow effects all this nonsense.