Keeping it going

So here I am pecking away at the Internet, trying to find the meaning of life and all that, when all of a sudden it hits me. I should be asleep, because I work early tomorrow. I guess I should, but fuck that shit. I'm going to live life on my terms, and by jove, I'm a night owl. I need to stay up late into the night leering at strippers, reading James Roday trivia, and eating all of my sister's gluten-free oatmeal cookies.

It's unfortunate that we night owls get no respect. We're always told that we have to be in bed by a certain time, and are looked at with scorn when we roll out of bed at 3 in the afternoon. We're yelled at when we play our drums at 1 in the morning. Hell, one time I was asked to leave a public park at 4 in the morning. I'm sorry, I didn't know my taxes only paid for the park between sunrise and sunset. I thought this was America, the home of the 7/11, 24/7.

When I was a kid I used to be bummed out, because I knew that at 9 o'clock I had to be in bed. I had so much more shit to do, I thought. Now, that I'm older, make my own decision, and can grow a beard I make the decisions, and wanna know what? I'm gonna stay up until I pass out. I'm going to live my life, and sleep when my body can't take it anymore!

I have to be up by 5 tomorrow, and as I write this it's a bit past midnight. It'll be later when I finish this rant, and it'll be much later when I finally decide to pull out my bed and get my z's on. I may only get 3 hours of sleep, but what of it? I'm having fun, and the day goes by much faster when you're working on only 3 hours of sleep. So long as you don't make it a habit.

The thing that I hate is when people make the choice to skip sleep, and then, the next morning, complain about being tired. I'm owning up to my poor decisions. It's my own damn fault I decided to stay up until 2:30 writing a fake diary.

That's right, I'm writing a fake diary. Basically I'm banking on archaeologists from the 23 century discovering this little diary and getting some seriously misguided notions on what life was like in the 21st century. 200 years from now they're going to think Ryan Reynolds was president, our currency was Mallomar bars, and Obama was something you yelled during sex.

Now, if you'll pardon me, I have to write discouraging things on people's walls, and down another aspirin before my heart explodes.