I am still at work and I will never get to leave. Never ever never. Ever never.
Update, 8:06 a.m.: I lied. I got off an hour ago and now am drinking a beer am taking this opportunity to see which parts of the garden get the best morning sun. Except it's sort of cloudy. I'll have to content myself with secretly rolling my eyes at the neighborhood joggers instead.
The funniest thing about having to work all night is how acutely the entire incoming day shift smells of shampoo and fabric softener after I've been cultivating my personal funk for 15 hours. What are these good, clean smells I detect? They frighten me; I must flee into the humid, exhaust-fogged sunrise!
Update, 8:42 a.m.: God, are there always this many birds in the morning? Shut up, you bastard birds!
I think I should go to bed.