The Daytime of the Night
The FOTC fans among you will have figured that title out, while the rest will be wondering what FOTC stands for (here). Let it never be said that I leave people hanging!
Ah, nighttime. Staying up and pondering life, wrapped in a blanket with the cold gradually stealing into my extremities until finger cramp forces me to stop typing or reading, and the fear of being discovered comatose in a chair the next morning forces me to go to bed.
I miss these times. I have them so rarely these days. Life is busy and work is busy and there's too much to fit in for me to indulge my owl-like tendencies of yesteryear. Gone are the feverish essays at 2am, Roxette in my headphones but Woolf on my mind. I don't get to do this anymore and live to tell the tale the next day.
But every so often, I just can't help it. My mind is so awake, a thousand possibilities presenting themselves, or maybe just one really good one. Sometimes it's a cake I need to make, or a letter that needs to be sent the next day. Sometimes it's a conversation with a dear friend, only because they're asleep I have to play it through in my head and then make a note to actually call them. But more often than not, it's the urge to write. It's why I've kept a notebook by my bedside since my late teens - I never know when something will demand to get out of my head and onto paper, and until I've scribbled it out the urgency doesn't subside.
Tonight I was all ready to go to bed - I walked 5k today, did the grocery shop, baked some apple rose thingies and played wife to a good level (i.e. made food and kissed injuries). But, something was niggling at me. Lo and behold, into my inbox drops the reason I've stayed up. So here I am, an hour later having typed typed typed, sent that off and then cried my happy tears at what it represents. I can't disclose all as yet, but lovely people, my heart is so full. This was worth staying up for.