8 o'clock magic

I'm kind of inert in the afternoon. I feel heavy and sluggish and sometimes have to pump myself full of sugary coffee drinks and hope I can ride out the last of the workday on a mid-level sugar high. I get home around 5:15 and I collapse on the couch, not allowing myself to be roused for food, phone calls, or possibly even James Franco.

I always take my running clothes to work in the trunk of my car because I think each day will be different and I'll go running immediately after work, but 5 PM rolls around and I look at those Nikes and die a little inside. The weird part, however, is that my lethargy turns magically into ADD between 7:45 and 8 PM. I wake up from my post-work coma and skitter around the house like a squirrel on speed. I can run miles, just feeling like a weightless ball of energy. OMG! SO FUN! I CAN DO AAANYTHING!


While I'm busy feeling hyperactive and borderline vibrating with the excitement of 8 o'clock, I do what makes sense. I text every single person I know and try to make plans. Late night plans! Early night plans! It doesn't matter, because I'm soaring on a cloud of limitless energy. It feels like life could not get any better, but in the good way.


Then the interesting part comes up. At 11, when I should be on my way to the exciting plans I made (movies, food, or banging James Franco, usually), I go all comatose again and rarely hear so much as my ringtone. My glory hours are too brief, and I don't know what the hell kind of career would match this lifestyle, but that's extraneous information. Right now it's 10:42, my phone is ringing, and I'm struggling to crawl across the bed and answer it.