I've been staying up until two and three in the morning lately anyway, working on the current novel -- see, I go through shifts in writing schedules. For awhile, I'll work best waking up at six and writing like crazy for three or four hours before I go to work. And then I'll work best coming straight home after classes and writing five or six hours. And then (like now) I'll work best during the five or six hours from ten p.m. until I'm literally so tired my eyes are crossing.
This last shift is not the best shift for someone who has to function in the modern world, especially on those days (only three of them this semester, but still) when I have to wake up in time to make 9.30 office hours.
Anyway. Today I woke up, rolled over, and said, ah. Ten o'clock. Plenty of time to clean house before the writing group arrives. (My writing group is coming today.)
But ha! But no! It was actually eleven o'clock! The Gods of Time are mocking me!
WTF. Why do we even still have these time shifts? So far as I know, the notion that this saves fuel has been disproved, and it clearly fucks up everyone's schedules, and is it just that once we've DONE something, we can't STOP doing that thing? Because that's not true. Scott Walker just said so.