Live permanently in the wrong timezone.
[Our friend The Artist, just returned from a trip home, came out with us the other night. I ventured that hanging with The Weeble until 4am was perhaps not the best way to fix her body-clock.]
Thursday, March 05, 2009
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4 comments:
Excuse me, sir, but I wasn't the one on the mission!
For once.
But you know what I mean. You have this sleep-through-the-morning, party-till-cock-crow thing down. She Who Must Not Be Named also. I think you're basically living on West Coast Time. Sorry - it doesn't work for me.
Well, East Coast Time for you, West for her (even scarier!).
I think it's more that I'm permanently afloat in some kind of Billy Pilgrim-esque unstuck-in-time netherdimension resulting from freelancing, frequent allnighters, the lack of adequate sunlight in my apartment, and corresponding phases of the moon, compounded by the sad fact that my diurnal rhythms tend more towards the Herbie Hancock polyrhythm than towards the simple, polka-like boom-tish boom-tish required by the waking world.
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