I have to note to you that this entire post was written exactly as you read it. I wrote it over the course of a few hours last night--er, this morning. I decided not to edit it because for whatever reason, I keep cracking up when I read it. Probably because it makes more sense than I thought it would when I went back to read it. Anyhow, here it is.
I don't think there's anything wrong with me. Some people would beg to differ. We all have our oddities. For instance, last night I watched “Lost” with Andrea. All episode hints aside, it was a non-descript night.11:00 rolled around and Andrea went to bed and I said I'd be in shortly (and, again not to spoil any plots), it's 6:35 am. In an hour, she'll be awake...ready to take on the world of category management. But I can't help but feel guilty...and, honestly, I know I shouldn't.You see, I have been unemployed for nearly three months. Before that I worked at a printing company for three and a half months...and again, I was unemployed for three months before that.
Given the state of the country/world during the last ten months, I can't help but find solace in the nighttime (more specifically, the overnights). It's my free time. It's nine hours where I feel truly creative and unique...and with a few drunken exceptions aside, nobody can touch me at 2am.
Nevermind the nights where Andrea will go to the bathroom in the middle of the night and catch me dancing to my ipod at 3am. It's more than that. To me, I am the most efficient after midnight, which is a shame because the job I start next week begins at 6:30am (14 minutes later than the sentence I just typed).
This, is ok with me. Sure, I'm happy to be getting a steady paycheck (especially in this economy). And of course, I'm happy to be putting money away for my wedding (which at this point in time is still without a date—so let's just assume it'll be Spring of 2011, because why the hell not?).
Anyhow, I've been up all night. I've been on a steady diet all night of random thoughts, Microsoft Office, Jimmy Kimmel, Led Zeppelin, and Miller High Life. The night began nondescriptly enough with a few Jack and Cokes (and by “the night” I mean “post 11pm in Bloomington, MN”). To be honest, unless I end up writing a book and use these blog entries as excerpts, the details are without much merit—but let it be known, it's nearly seven in the morning and I'm rolling with “Death To The Pixies (the live album). Just had to mention that for historic purposes.
So anyhow, I cannot make myself go to bed before sunrise when I have a night to myself. I mentioned before how I am at my most efficient after midnight. This is true, however, this only applies to creative processes. I couldn't go over the rules and conditions regarding a credit card I've recently been approved for. Nope. But I could write a bunch of b.s. without much trouble.
And to be fair, I'm at my best when writing about a bunch of b.s.
This leads me to believe that if I could've been a rock star, I probably would've written or composed my “Let It Be” during the overnight hours. What bothers me about this “ability” is that nobody I really know is wired the same way as me. I have some friends that can stay up late...as well as some friends (mainly my buddy Green) who get up uber early and can still be affective. So I share my “skill” with nobody more than likely.
But even since I was a pre-teen, I've seen some sense of honor for staying up from dusk till dawn. In some respects, it has (in some weird kind of way) shown that I can entertain myself while so many other have been bored to sleep (yeah, it's a huge stretch—but give me a break, it's almost 7:15 in the morning).
I doubt I can find the right words to make my late night excursions justifiable. For me, they make me happy. I enjoy the peace that comes with the middle of the night.
Sure, Andrea will be up in a few minutes and I can try and make her understand what the night means to me. Ironically, I probably won't be able to find the right words...but I don't mind. It's not about the words—per se. It's about the right ideas.
I'll spend nights standing on my patio listening to music. Music that I love. Music that I am passionate about. Music that challenges me as a person (songs that even after listening to nearly 32,505 times I have theories and ideas about). So what better time? Why not 3am? You know that nobody will bother you...with that said, it's 7:22 am...”Wave of Mutilation” is playing on I-Tunes, and Andrea just opened the door of the den to say good morning. Well, it wasn't good morning as much as it was, “good god, why are you still up?”. Yes, we might be in the business of judging....but wait and see.
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