I Keep Starting Things at 10pm

Every night around 10, something strange happens. The dishes are done, the apartment is quiet, and I suddenly decide it's the perfect time to reorganize my bookshelf. Or learn to draw. Or finally sort out three years of photos.

In the daytime I can barely answer an email without staring out the window. But at 10pm I'm a person with plans.

Last Thursday I started repainting an old wooden stool. By midnight there was paint on the floor, on my sleeve, and somehow on the cat. The stool is still half done, sitting by the window.

I used to think this was a discipline problem. Now I think it's just that the evening is the only time nobody needs anything from me. Everything feels possible when no one is waiting for a reply.

I still haven't finished the stool, by the way. Maybe tonight.