It’s pretty rare for me to be up this late. I am usually ready for bed from about 8.30 so being up at 11.45pm is quite strange.
And that’s how I feel. Quite strange. I know I must be tired as my typing is a tad erratic but I don’t feel sleepy or tired in the slightest. I feel wired as if I have been slurping down the coffee all evening. I’ve been writing a lot tonight, mainly here but I have done some fiction earlier. I’ve mostly been bouncing ideas around.
I do feel as if I may be running headlong into a manic high episode, though. Normally I crave sleep like a junkie craves a fix. Now I just don’t feel like sleeping. I’m going to go and get ready for bed shortly and hope the routine of washing face, cleaning teeth and so on trigger the desired result.
The trouble is I’m a natural owl. There’s a theory that people are either owls or larks, in terms of the setting of their body clocks. I’ve always felt I’m an owl. I work best in the darker hours of the night, even though it’s been decades since I pulled an overnighter to complete an essay. I married a lark and birthed one too.
So an owl living with two larks and living a lark lifestyle of early rising and daylight working….No wonder I’m so screwed up and struggle with insomnia despite being exhausted by 9pm. My whole bodyclock is in denial.
I’m not sure what the solution might be, given that much of society works by lark rules and therefore most jobs are run on lark time.
I’ve got six minutes now before midnight arrives. I shan’t turn into a pumpkin or lose my slippers but I know something has shifted in me.
Five minutes now. Tick-tock.
That’s the sound of today dripping away to tomorrow.
Good night and sweet dreams to you all!