I’m not sure about you, but I’m an early bird and a night owl. There’s just something that I get from the night owling that keeps me up, doing whatever. It’s quiet, the kids are sleep, and I can hear my thoughts. I can plan the next day. Maybe eat a fat bowl of Frosted Flakes, watch some Animal Planet, maybe an episode or two of some Netflix show. Truth is, the night owl lifestyle is my creative timezone to work on vlogs, blogs, music, etc.
It seems I have more to talk about in the evening. Then suddenly there’s a rip in the fabric of my quiet time. It’s a Zoie-saurus screeching down the hall, riding a wave of emotion, like I’d done something to disturb her. She doesn’t want anything other than to cramp my comfort by sitting on me while I -NOW- try to blog or vlog. Shit, eat my bowl of Frosted Flakes for that matter.
Even with that stated, I still love to burn that midnight oil because she’ll be sleep just as fast as she climbed up on my lap. And she does it like I’ve got nothing better to do than to hold your sleeping ass.
I use to stay up until 4a doing whatever, and still get up before 8. That’s 8 A.M. if you needed clarification. But now, I try to go to bed around 230, and get up around 630 to handle the days business. If I could stay up non-stop for a week, or some undefined date, I’m sure I would. Sleeping eats up some very valuable and production time, that you don’t get back. Therefore, I’m aware of every second. That’s part of the ambition, and the focus, right? Good ole parent stuff