Pencil It In

From about the age of 13 (onset of puberty, I'm looking at you), I've been predominantly nocturnal. Since those formative years, I haven't wanted to wake up earlier than about noon

nor hit the hay at anything close to sensible hours. Even when I know I need to. I love to sleep, dream and luxuriate in a comforter far more than I love most daily demands (nothing against the demands just ain't my bag). The best side of morning is on the tail end of the night, when the sun has yet to slice through the dawn in my book. Night time is the right time, as it brims with spontaneous and mysterious possibilities to do what you will, how you want to. Maybe it's an overly romantic/rebellious way of viewing the world, but still. Unfortunately for fellow nocs like me, the majority of societal structures and operating hours are set up to begin early morning and end just after we've begun to feel most productive, rendering us at odds with obligations, frequently. Jank, I tell you.



No matter how my soul shudders and sputters as the alarm bell jangles me hence, it's a big part of being a grown-up, and you can rarely get around it after you procreate or attain lofty career goals, or both. I think the element of daily drudgery is what hinders us most. It just so monotonous. There are bright, beautiful things that occur, but mostly, just monotony. There has to be a way to get through it all.



Sitting on my beloved balcony, where I do the lions share of pondering/writing/communing with celestial powers, I fantasize a lot about how the day would go if time, immediate surroundings and reality were on my side. The name of the game is swimming, for a moment, in what you want not dealing with what you don't have, when you daydream. Call me crazy, that's why I dig it so. I'd wake up ready to tear the world a new one if only I had this mythical schedule of excellence. The phrase, "Wouldn't it be nice if..." thought lovingly gets me through many a dull moment. Feel free to incorporate the Beach Boys song of the same name if you need some extra set-the-carefree-tone zazz as you conjure up your own spirit lifting scenarios. Mine goes like this:


Wouldn't it be nice if...I woke to the warm nuzzling of Joseph Gordon Levitt and/or Tom Hardy (they're the top drawer pretend tag team in rotation currently), with just the right amount of inspirational, comforting whisperings such as, "Today, the world will benefit from your unique humanity, you beautiful creature, you" or "I love how effortlessly gorgeous you are when you wake" and then commence in the type of wake-up ritual that everyone should have (time tables are non-existent, as are any intrusions). Then, said gentleman dissipates with a wink and smile, only after handing over a Venti White Chocolate Mocha and a "go get 'em tiger" ass slap.



Wouldn't it be glorious if your completely assembled for the day, sweetly cheerful child appeared and hugged you, saying, "I'm truly thankful for all you do for me" or "My world is wonderful, thanks to you" and then the two of you eat a delicious breakfast that you neither have to prepare or clean up after, with no trace of post-breakfast bloat. Then she heads out the door to her next adventure, safe, content, and secure. The rest of the day would be adequate smatterings of gleefully creating amazing art, sun bathing, shopping, and feeling at ease and whole. Never a moment of stress or ill side effect, never feeling a moment wasted or squandered.


It would be more than nice, my friends.


I have yet to nail down that particular scenario, but I'll be damned if it doesn't put a smile on my face in the early hours when I need one most. And for that, I'll have Secretary of Brain Function make room. Even if it means getting my groggy ass up to do so.