I work a ridiculously early shift, so I don’t have the closest relationship with time. I have trouble, for instance, convincing myself that sleeping until four in the morning is “sleeping in”, and I have just as much trouble convincing myself that working until ten in the morning on my days off is an actual, full day’s work.
Objectively, it is. Objectively, I did pretty well, today. About ten pages of hand-written revision. (More, if you count the new bits with the old draft pages.) I’m having trouble convincing myself that I deserve a break.
Hell, I’m having trouble convincing myself I need a Krebs Cycle.
In those rare moments when I have thoughts of going to the library to work, I hit a brick wall when I realize the library does not open until around ten. Oh, yes… that’s right. Ten is already a full day’s work, more or less.
Getting up that early in the morning plays havoc with any kind of social life I might think I needed, too.
Does anything happen before my bedtime? Nope. I don’t think so.
Still, I do get some work done, now and then. I just wish it were more normal hours.