If there is one thing to be said for irregular sleep patterns, it’s that it completely changes the way you experience times of day. It has been a long time since I have been awake at this time of day; recently my sleeping pattern has been something along the lines of six in the morning until three in the afternoon, and I had completely forgotten what mornings look like, beyond the cold hint of sunrise that tells you that you should be in bed at six. So here I am, writing a sociology assignment, and it’s only now that I realise that I had forgotten what the mid-morning looked like.
Seeing the light outside at midmorning, like a warm blanket and a soft embrace, is something that I am appreciating right now, in its immediacy, much more than I ever did when I got up to go to school every day and looked out the car window without ever quite noticing it.
I am going to regret it later, when I will be reminded more strongly that I didn’t sleep, but for now I would rather just enjoy the sensation.