It's about 1:45 AM, and I'm trying to finish a paper that was due a week ago.
I haven't actually worked on the paper in about 45 minutes or so. I was typing away, and suddenly I realized that I'm actually kind of enjoying this time alone. It's quiet. It's peaceful. There is no baby screaming at me, no pressure to figure out how to entertain her for the rest of the day, no frenzied football commentators screaming out play recaps from the television screen, which is sometimes combined with classic rock tunes, so that the BassMaster can listen to the game AND the radio while he paints the living room. I have no idea how he listens to both at the same time. The noise gives me a nervous ticque and kind of makes me want to throw things.
I should be totally freaking out that this paper is not yet finished. And I am, on some level. I hate school with a passion right now and am so far behind on everything that I can't even remember the original due dates. I just know that it's all LATE. I'm even getting nasty-grams from some of my professors to the tune of, "Um, Ms. Nichols? Can you please get your sh*t together and send me SOMETHING to grade? A soup recipe? A list of words you looked up in the dictionary? Anything?"
But right now, I'm loving the fact that I could sit here for the next four hours or so, and do whatever I want without being interuppted. I could paint my nails. I could slide down the stairs on my ass over and over. I could do flips on the couch if I wanted, which I won't because I'm not particularly athletic and would probably break my neck. But I could try. There's a strange freedom in these wee hours of the morning. I kinda like it.
Having said that, I really need to get to bed. I'm gonna be hating life when The Munchkin gets up.