Ah, Coffee In The Speckled Mug

So I like to stay up late when I can. most of you already know that. and most of you probably figure I stay up late doing things and writing and keeping myself busy and entertained. and while this sounds plausible and is a good idea, it's usually NOT what I'm doing on those frequent nights when I'm up until three in the morning. no, usually when I pull an all-nighter (nighter isn't a word...I just realized that) I'm doing...well...not really anything. I sit on my computer and watch funny youtube videos or stare glassy-eyed at my empty inbox waiting for a new message to magically appear, as if anybody besides me actually stayed up until 3 for no good reason, let alone writing emails. yes, sometimes I am writing a bit of poetry or some stupid fiction story, but I find I can only write when inspired, and usually when it's almost sunup and my eyes are twitching and my brain is short-circuiting and blinking "COFFEE OVERLOAD" in big red letters I'm not even feeling human, let alone inspired.

So usually what happens before one of these all-nighters (wait...spellcheck says "nighter" isn't a word but "nighters" is. weird. it also says "spellcheck" isn't a word. I smell a rat) is that I'll kind of wander around the house for a little while at around ten o'clock, wondering what to do and mostly waiting for people to go to bed so I can have the house to myself. Nikki's really the only person who notices, and she knows when I do that, that I'm about to pull an all nighter (okay, I'm adding that word to my dictionary. the red spellcheck line is starting to bug me). and I don't know why, but she has problems with me staying up late at night. I think it all goes back to when we lived in rooms side by side in Ceresco and I always stayed up late and got four hours of sleep per night, and she always went to bed early and got eight and we both felt the same in the morning. I'm pretty sure she's still bitter about that.

Anyways, she always tries to talk me out of staying up late, as if it effects her happiness or something if I go to bed when she does. she always tries to get me to, like, turn against myself or something by asking questions like, "Why do you always feel like you have to stay up late?" Answer: "Pfft." or "Why don't you just go to sleep now? you know you're tired." Answer: "Pfft." and sometimes she even tries to pull the "It's not healthy to stay up so late." card. Answer: "Pfft. pfft. pfft." the only people who say staying up late isn't healthy are the people who are angry that they can't stay up late themselves. people like Nikki. poor souls.

After "pffting" Nikki into silence I flounce to my bedroom. I never really answer her questions because...well...I really don't have answers to them. why don't I go to bed? I...don't know. it's not like I have anything especially important to do. it's a mindset. maybe I was brainwashed once...like a Jason Bourne type thing. "must stay up late...must stay up late..." and when somebody asks "why?" it throws off my mindset and puts me on the defensive. "well...well...why NOT? hu, Mr. Smart Man? Why NOT?" Jo Bourne. nah. doesn't flow. forget that idea. and besides, being brainwashed to stay up late at night isn't nearly as cool as being brainwashed to kill people. yeah, scrap that idea.

I do love the nighttime, though. I like being awake when everyone else is asleep. it gives me a sense of power. "you have all succumbed to your natural human instincts and fallen into a voluntary coma. me? I've risen above and beyond my basic human needs and am staying awake until I dang well please. mwahaha."

After Nikki goes to her room with one last parting (and useless) jab about my going to bed, she's usually the last one, so I am left alone with myself and the coffee that I am about to make. I steal downstairs and brew me a pot, sipping it slowly while I decide how I'm going to spend my sleepless night. the possibilities are endless. and yet...beginningless. for the life of me...I can't think of anything to do.

So on any given night I'll go upstairs to my bedroom and goof around on my computer, watching funny youtube videos, watching (real) movies on my laptop, reading random stuff I've written, listening to music or any number of things that I could do during the daytime. nothing that I do at one a.m. is ever really anything that I couldn't do at noon on any given day. annoying.

Anyways. eventually, as I DO get tired at three or four, I find my head beginning to tilt backwards, because my eyes are starting to close involuntarily, and to see strait ahead, my head starts to tilt backwards. that's usually when I start to wonder if going to bed wouldn't be such a bad idea after all. usually after the head tilting begins, the next thing to start happening is when I blink, my eyes take longer and longer to open again. it's like...sheer willpower to make them go open again. after this starts happening, I give it another half hour, tops, before I fall victim to my own sleepiness and stagger like a drunk to my bed and collapse.

The next morning I get up, tired, yes, but I never regret when I've done. I don't know why. I know I ought to; after all, I never really did anything important in my all night escapade. I never really accomplished anything. I think the important reason that I stay up late is silence. silence is the best. and when you live in MY house...silence is pretty hard to come by, and when you DO come by it, you better enjoy it cause you never know when you'll come by it again. I guess that's my best reason for staying up late. I can't get silence during the day, so I'll get it at night when everybody has no choice but to be quiet, cause they're all ASLEEP! my own brilliance astounds me.

So I guess I'm done. it's two a.m., not quite as late as usual, but I'm a little bit more tired tonight, so I'm going to go ahead and skip the head tilt and the long blinks and head strait for bed--err--couch. who's idea was it to give me the guest bedroom? *grumble grumble* oh well. at least down here nobody cares how late I stay up.

G'night, all.