I woke up grumpy today, and was determined to feel sorry for myself. I told everyone polite enough to listen of how late I'd slept and of how inconsiderate they were being by not tiptoeing around me. When they got tired of listening, I figured I'd come here and tell you. For you, reader, can't make a polite escape. Unless, well, you click away...
I also said some rather cutting things to the dog because his cheerfulness was offensive. One giant mugful of coffee later, my world view's markedly less jaundiced. Panda was wonderfully forgiving, probably because he didn't hear me threaten that I'd have him sent someplace where they eat annoying dogs. He's lying under my chair right now, his chin resting on my toes. We're both content not to move.

It's almost 4 am and I'm feeling mighty smug, reader. I've been working steadily all night, pausing only twice. Once to make myself a sandwich and a cup of coffee, and once again an hour ago, to watch Beyonce singing that girls would run the world. Don't look at me like that. It was three in the morning and I needed reminding.

I'm sitting at the dining table today, and I like that I have space to spread myself out. The table is strewn with all my paraphernalia. There are books and pens, the laptop, headphones, iPod, empty coffee mug, plate with breadcrumbs... all proof of the hard work I've been doing. Panda has been checking in on me every couple of hours. He ambles up, his nails clicking against the tiles, and nudges my elbow with his nose. I scratch behind his ears and then, satisfied, he goes back to bed.

I like working in the night. It turns so dark that it is hard to remember that morning will come. If there was no clock ticking away in the corner of my screen, I could come to believe the night would last forever.

I should imitate the dog and go to sleep, only I don't feel like it just yet. I feel wide awake and the world outside is already turning grey. I feel a restless energy which I impute to vast amounts of caffeine. The sun will rise soon, and then I'll go to bed. 

It is another of those long nights, reader. All my companions have long since gone to bed. The dog is curled up at my feet, his paws twitching in a dream. I can hear crickets chirping outside my window and the more distant sound of cars racing up and down the highway outside. They never stop, although they are quite frequently chased by sirens.

I'm awake and I will be awake all night, driven by a curious sense of urgency. I seem to have let a great deal slip away, these past few weeks, and now I am determined to make up for lost time. I don't have any deadline tonight except the one I've imposed on myself. That makes me feel very grown up.

This being a master of my own destiny stuff is scary, but I think I could learn to like it.