… are always difficult for me. i become almost nocturnal on the weekends, staying up all night writing, and then sleeping into the middle of the afternoon. This week is no different. i’m typing this at ~glancing at the clock~ 3:36am, even though i know my alarm will be going off in less than three hours for me to begin my day with a workout, a shower, and a grueling workday.
Monday nights often end early, sometimes as soon as i get home, in an attempt to reset my internal clock to a “normal” day.
You’d think i’d learn, and try not to get so far off kilter in two tiny little days, but i don’t, i haven’t, and i doubt i ever will. Someday, perhaps, i’ll be able to live off just my writing alone, but that day has yet to arrive, and so i continue this cycle.
i do get a great deal accomplished, writing-wise. But then i hit that moment when i know i have to put the notebook aside, close the word processing program and go to bed. That’s when it really begins to suck. i stare at the ceiling for a while. Then i think of little things i need to do. Tonight, it was organize my makeup bag and attend to my manicure. At 2am. And now it’s … this. Typing up a boring blog post about why i should be sleeping, but am, instead, up typing a boring blog post about why i should be … etc.
You get it