A few years ago, I made it my mission to stay up to midnight every night (or nearly every night) that I could for a year. I don't know why I made this a mission. Perhaps I thought it would inspire me to use the extra time to write more or get creative. I didn't have cable at the time and wasn't a big fan of late night TV, so I ended up spending a lot of time listening the garbled dial tones of my computer connecting to the internet.
Back then it was no big deal to be online until 1 a.m. and still be fresh for work at 8:30. Now I can't even make it past 10 p.m. on most nights without Patrick waking me up on the couch for snoring. What the hell happened to me?
No body told me that getting older would mean a lessened ability to bounce back after long nights. Of course, there is the freedom of staying up without having a curfew or a roommate who brings home a dude to have sex in the bunk above you. I'm just saying.
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