I never go to bed before midnight, no matter what continent I'm in (well, you know, a girl can dream.) My happiest life happens generally between two a.m. and nine a.m, (At nine a.m. I think of all the people at work, and think of this famous movie scene https://prod-www.tcm.com/video/948439/thousand-clowns-a-1965-movie-clip-people-going-to-work) How does this relate to your last post, you may wonder? Because I never go to bed before midnight, it's always already tomorrow. I never wake up "the next day." Midnight happens, but never without me. It's always already tomorrow, which removes exactly one of my forty-two thousand anxieties.
Hi, Hilary. I apologize for leaving your time-traveling self hanging. I so appreciate your presence here. A Thousand Clowns is a fine film. I'm not a nighthawk anymore but I remember those days, and wondering what all those people were going off to do, and why is there money.
Is there a “night life” where you live that isn’t so touristy that all the “life,” night or not, has been leached out of it? Are there “readings” and Book Events? Let me just say that if I ever got up the gumption to write a book, I would not read passages of it aloud to a roomful of strangers to save my life. My cat’s life, maybe. Or your cat’s life. Glad to be in your milieu.
I never go to bed before midnight, no matter what continent I'm in (well, you know, a girl can dream.) My happiest life happens generally between two a.m. and nine a.m, (At nine a.m. I think of all the people at work, and think of this famous movie scene https://prod-www.tcm.com/video/948439/thousand-clowns-a-1965-movie-clip-people-going-to-work) How does this relate to your last post, you may wonder? Because I never go to bed before midnight, it's always already tomorrow. I never wake up "the next day." Midnight happens, but never without me. It's always already tomorrow, which removes exactly one of my forty-two thousand anxieties.
Hi, Hilary. I apologize for leaving your time-traveling self hanging. I so appreciate your presence here. A Thousand Clowns is a fine film. I'm not a nighthawk anymore but I remember those days, and wondering what all those people were going off to do, and why is there money.
Is there a “night life” where you live that isn’t so touristy that all the “life,” night or not, has been leached out of it? Are there “readings” and Book Events? Let me just say that if I ever got up the gumption to write a book, I would not read passages of it aloud to a roomful of strangers to save my life. My cat’s life, maybe. Or your cat’s life. Glad to be in your milieu.