late night with anna

Every morning when I wake up I think, "This, this is the day that I will go to bed early!" I hate getting up in the morning. I am so not a morning person that I am the anti-morning person. If you talk to me as I am waking, I will growl at you, even if you are being ever so sweet and tying to gently rouse me. I crave Saturdays when there are no waking up deadlines and sleep goes on and on and on. But, somehow, and micraculously, after about 15-20 minutes on the weekdays, I begin to perk up, start making the coffee (thank God for coffee) and think that maybe I can make it through the day without vertically snoring. I do end up making it through the day, but have to fight like hell not to take a nap in the afternoon. The hours between 4-6 have become my nemisis. The problem revolves around the fact that I stay up 'til about 12:30 or 1 everynight (I teach school so this is way late). There is no real reason why I do this. I am not writing a novel or developing photographs or even knitting an amazing sweater. No, you can usually catch me doing, well, nothing I guess. I can't acurately say what I do each night. Sometimes I'm reading, sometimes watching TV, sometimes reading blogs online, and sometimes talking to west coast friends. I used to actually stay up to watch Letterman, but TV bores me more and more lately.

I have always been a night owl. I can't remember when I didn't like staying up late. It must have started in late elmentary school or middle school when I can remember watching Saturday Night Live and Johnny Carson with my family (I know, quality bonding time). I remember in college wishing that exams were given at night because my brain was just so much more alert then and I was convinced this would improve my grades. I still "wake up" at about 8pm everynight. This is when I begin getting things done, the dishes, the laundry, the phone calls, the emails, the projects, the organizing. About 2 hours into my second wind, I remember that I wanted to go to bed early so I don't feel bad in the morning, but 10pm rolls around and I think I can give it one more hour and then I think if I go to bed at midnight I'll still get about 7 hours of sleep. Sounds good, but this never happens. So, everynight I stay up doing things that will sadly not bring to me to enlightenment anytime soon. I wish that I could say that I have an extraordinary social life filled with late night gallery openings and wild parties, but no. That's not me anyway. Instead, I'll be washing my hair, helping my friends pick the perfect bridesmaids dress online or shutting the world out with a book. Tonight I will be, um, let's see, um, well, how about reading my fabulous travel book on London (no, I'm not going anytime soon, I'm just obsessed) until midnight. And tomorrow morning when I wake up I will think "This, this is the day that I will go to bed early!"