So Much To Do, So Little Time (an ode to not sleeping)

I've always been a night owl. Stay up all night reading. Paint a room or move furniture at 2am, these are randomly good occupations for the nocturnal. Something about that twilight in between time when no one is around can spark exhuberant creativity or long deep thoughts. Solitude is my plateau for becoming aware. A what if or so what evaluation of whatever is going on in my life. I enjoy being social but need that cloak of silence to recharge. It might have something to do with being an only child. I had friends, cousins, family but also learned to entertain myself at an early age. I remember long stretches of alone times as a child. The parents worked blue collar hours, mom 3-11pm, dad 3-11am. Someone was always sleeping at our house so being quiet was a requirement. Nature or nurture - who knows? We had a German Shepherd named Prince when I was six who loved me like the moon and stars. It had been snowing heavily one day and Prince had broken his chain and wandered off leaving a trail in the snow. I remember following his tracks for a time and squating down in the cold snow to more closely examin the paw prints. As I bent down a cold wet nose bowled me over face first in the snow. After much rejoiceing Prince explained to me that he wasn't lost - he was coming right back. At least that's the way I remember it.

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