silent nights and other random drivel.

In my wallet, I've got several hundred in Taiwanese currency that I forgot to exchange for the almighty dollar. The money feels hot. It's worth about 10 US dollars, but something about nice round numbers gives my sense of immediate wealth a disproportionate boost: "Yeah, that's right. It's got some zeroes. Oh, you can't accept this? That's really too bad. I guess I'll take my business elsewhere."

Thanks to a lethal dose of jet lag and general unhealthy living. I am currently on vampire time. I wake up at 8 AM, go to work, get home by 6:30 PM or so, mope around, and sleep from 8 or 9 'til 1:30 AM. I stay up until 5 or 6 AM, and then go back to sleep. Repeat.

Auxilliary benefits: I get to work early and leave early; lots of peaceful time. Downsides: I feel very very sleepy by 8 PM every night; I'm not giving corporate America 110%.

Yeah, it's a little weird. But I love being awake during Quiet Time, aka the witching hours, aka 3 AM to 5 AM, when the world shuts down. Time to think, reflect, work on music, and bother people (friends, family, future lovers or other interesting denizens) with life's great remote control: email.

If I had with me, right now, a scotch bottle, some ice, and a nice lowball glass, maybe a drunken female companion or two, along with an atmosphere of impending sucker-punch-to-the-face violence (which I would, of course, cleverly elude after shamelessly charming the ladies), I could have a Bukowski moment. But I don't. I guess that sort of adventure will remain accessible only through his books. Maybe one day, I'll gather up the will to put myself in mortal danger.

But not this night. Dreamland calls. Out.