Why Would I Bother Then?

Rain is falling softly outside...Another night like so many; spent sitting on my bed, with for sole company my laptop on my lap, with only the ticking from the keyboard disrupting the quiet silence of night. That's what I do best; I'm not the type of person to go to bed early. And neither I am the early riser...I would procrastinate for hours, just like now, in order to escape sleep till the very last moment when eyes wouldn't stay opened. And I just wouldn't leave bed in the morning just to grasp that one more minute of sleep. I'm not the only one out there to do so, so why should I bother you with such petty details of my life? As I said, to better escape sleep...What else?!

Anyway, I'm always amazed how after the longest day of my week (saturday being a ten-hour long day spent behind a till asking customers for more money really takes its tone on one's mind trust me) I always manage to be up for the longest nights and the craziest parties with friends...And when not partying, I'm here to blog or surf the web. Again, why should I tell you that? To live the most of that unfinished day, that's why.

And here, on my bed, when everyone in the household sleeps but me, what can I think off when obviously my brain doesn't compute anymore? I think about tomorrow, I think of what I've done today little as it's already past. I plan ahead, hoping plans work fine. I plan a lot; only to see so many flaws in them in the moment of the execution I always have to improvise. I improvise my life a lot, you'll say if you know me well. But behind every action, there is a mature plan that never worked properly. Why would I say that now? Because I don't want to give in to sleep just yet.

So what would be my plans for tomorrow, if one were to ask me? Sunday is a pretty dull day, so I seek no plan in particular. With monday as my day off this week, it'll allow me a two-day long week end at my parent's. I have no plans with them because I know they won't do anything but stay at home to watch TV. All I can think of now is to pack up with new clothes and towels. The rest will be sheer improvisation. How exciting is that? And why would I care telling such dull things about my daily life? I didn't want to turn off the light, that's why.

And all in all, this week end of mine, as dull as it can be, as improvisedly dull as it will be, as improvisedly dull and boring it is already...Why do I have to tell you about it, if a reason there is? Is that really to spare me the trouble of sleeping when I admit sleeping is wonderful? Am I that much paradoxical? I don't think so. So if that whole reason was nothing but a cover? Why would I then write down all of that rubbish that makes my everyday life? The reason is so simple. It's because somehow, deep inside, I believe you care.


(PS: I also wrote that out of boredom, don't flatter yourselves too much thinking all I care about is 'you only'. 'You mostly' would fit better anyway ;) )

Yours Truly,

ToTo