I am a Vampire

It has been most conclusively decided by myself that I am a vampire. I haven't necessarily developed a taste for blood or carnage but I'm not completely ruling it out, don't knock it till you try it? Right? The facts are that I love the night. Night is generous and full of possibilities while the day exposes all of my shame and shortcomings. Sure sunlight is beautiful and lends to great days at the beach but it also betrays you by slowly turning your skin cells cancerous. Nighttime would never do that.

At night I am more optimistic...about everything. As a self proclaimed pessimist, this is the ultimate confession. At night I know that the day is done and that there is nothing more within my power to change its outcome. There is only the promise of tomorrow, of getting a second chance to try to do it all over again. And lets not forget to pay homage to one of the finest things in all of existence, sleep. Those last few seconds of consciousness as my head is being cradled by my one true love, aka my pillow, are some of the best seconds of my existence.

Morning on the other hand is life's cruel joke. In my life, morning can only go one of two ways. The first scenario involves my alarm going off at 615am. When the jagged sound crashes through my REM waves my first reaction is confusion. My heart beat pounds in my head and waves of nausea greet my first few seconds of wakefulness. Once the fear of life's consequences sufficiently convinces me that yes I must get up, I stumble around in a zombie like state where I am unable to form intelligible English words to my roommate who seems to enjoy these strange unnatural hours of wakefulness.

The second scenario involves my alarm going off at 830am. Remember, my optimistic vampirish night self set the alarm. The reality is that........its not happening. After swiftly silencing the offending alarm I spend approximately 30 seconds tossing around disgust and guilt in a last ditch attempt to try to motivate myself to get up and do something productive...like the 9am yoga class. Before I can sufficiently conjure up enough self disgust to be effective, I fall asleep, where I blissfully remain until about 10am. When I finally do awake the daylight streams into my room highlighting all of the dust and specks of dirt on my furniture and rug. In this moment, I know that I have already sold myself short. I know the day will be an uphill battle to try to overcome the waste of those hours I spent in my bed. And yes, I look forward to the night where I will have the opportunity to hope for a better tomorrow.