The
best revelations come at
some ungodly hour, like
4 a.m..
The
freshest air floats by in the
two or three hours after
midnight.
The
prettiest sky comes at about 5:30.
I
worship nighttime.
Thanks to the
conflicting gods of
paycheck and
Ninetofive, though, I also
sleep through it. But I, and the rest of us worshippers of the
wee hours, the people whose eyes light up when the clock says
3:33 a.m., we all kind of
look forward to getting old. To leaving The Shift. To
waking more often in the middle of the night,
throwing on some slippers and standing on the porch, or using the
superb opportunity to do some
uncrowded, easy shopping.
The one piece of
advice I might have for other
night-worshippers is to check out and, if you can,
consider, the
Uberman's Sleep Schedule. Danke and--
yarrwwagh!--good night.