Late Shift

"We live half in the daytime, and half at night."

I'm around a lot of night people, those who sleep during bankers hours, require the all-night ATMs and think a restaurant closing at 11PM is early. My heart belongs with the nocturnal ones, the insomniacs, those who eat breakfast at 2PM.  

No matter what I'm doing, watching the sun slink over the horizon makes me feel truant. As the night lazily become morning, my bed calls me to sleep. But my body is a negligent doctor refusing to answer its pages. I didn't used to be. I used to get to bed by 1AM like a normal person. Can't sleep anymore. Forgotten how. I live twenty hour days.

I used to think being a night person just time shifted your life. It doesn't. It changes you.  The hours one keeps doesn't simply dictate which movie show times you're available for. Your sleep patterns say a lot about you; their roots run deep. For instance, when you get off work at midnight, there aren't a lot of libraries, gyms, or grocery stores open. You can eat Wendy's or pub food. You can go home or to a bar. That's about it.

The night is a funny thing. No one makes huge regrettable mistakes at 9AM. The next morning, no one has ever muttered the phrase, "Jesus, I don't remember what happened after I had that second latte." It doesn't happen. But something about the umbrella of stars brings out the werewolf in all of us.

Here's to staying out all night, waking up with tattered clothes, and treating your body like a hotel room. I've been a day-walker most of my life. Cheers to the other side of the tracks, letting up on the reins, and loosing your tie.
 
cf. Night Owls