The Midnight Hour

E. suggested calling these wakeful hours “the midnight hours”, but that only lead to a host of earworms over the course of the day.

At one point, considering something I wanted to write, I caught myself thinking, “I’m gonna wait ’til the midnight hour.”

This is the sixth night of waking at midnight, to write and read and take the old lady for walk if she’s in the mood. It’s very difficult to sort out which quirks of the day are related to the Biphasic Sleeping Project, and which are just life in general.

In reality, at the moment, I can’t imagine much else as boring as blogging about sleep. The strangest thing so far (regarding the project) is that it is Friday night and I am treating it like a weeknight – with plans to rise at 5:30 for a run. When I was sleeping 9.30-4.30, I never did that on weekends. I would stay up until 11 and roll out of bed at 8 or so.

Yeah, I know, I’m a wild one.

I am not sure how this is going to affect my writing. This week I finished the final edits on The Elephants Have Been Singing All Along, and went over Lodén’s (great) translation. I should be knee-deep into another project by now; up now, dancing with a muse.

Don’t they say that if you build a routine, create a ritual, the muse will just show up?

Well, right now, there’s no one else around.

Who knew there were so many songs about midnight?

I'd love to read whatever thoughts this might spark for you.

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