We stay up late. We also sleep late. This is actually (sorry about the pun) a rather late development for me. I was always a “morning person.”
Woke up early, got most of whatever I needed to do, done. Quickly and efficiently. Except now, although I get up in the morning, it’s the late morning. How much I do depends on how I feel and whether or not I got any good sleep the night before.
No matter what time I got up, I’m up past midnight and depending on what I’m reading, it might be a lot later. Sometimes, morning and night fade into one another.
I don’t have a work schedule, so it’s entirely possible I’m unsure what day of the week it is unless I look at a calendar.
Days tend to be similar to one another, so recalling if I did that thing I do everyday today or yesterday can be tricky. I give Bishop his medicine, put drops in Bonnie’s eye, take my medicine, write that thing I’m planning to write. It’s a bit fuzzy around the edges.
Am I remembering yesterday or today? I have to try to recall a particular thought or event that pins the moment to the day.
This isn’t a bad thing, mind you. Simple routines are not jarring, don’t set my teeth on edge. The absence of drama is a gift.
Night or day? Maybe once there was a clear line of delineation between the two … but now? It’s all life. It goes on 24 hours every day. For some of those hours, I’m awake. For others, I’m asleep. That will suffice.