I can see a security light from my windows. On the nights when I'm 
trying to get some sleep, it somehow finds a way through my 
curtains and directly onto my face. That's when I think about 
unscrewing the bulb or shooting it out.

But on other nights, when I'm not trying to sleep, the orange 
light is almost comforting. It blocks out the stars, of course, 
but it's nice to have something staying up with me, even if 
it's only a light.  

The people in my building aren't nightowls, you see. Sometimes 
I hear Leno or Letterman through the central heating vents, but 
there's no activity after that. So, since I think I've annoyed 
enough people this year, I don't play my stereo unless I keep 
it so low as to be pointless. I don't care for any of the local 
radio shows, and the late night television schedule makes going 
to bed early sound like a good plan.  So it's usually just me, 
my worktable light and the light outside the window, as I try 
to finish some project that fills the long night.

Sometimes I finish my reports. I don't recommend writing while 
sleep-deprived, but I can do it if I have to.  Law school 
taught me that.  Usually I work on my hobbies, such as they 
are. It's amazing how much you can get done with an extra 
8 hours. But when I finish, the satisfaction is short-lived; 
it only makes me think of all the things I haven't done this 
year, and all the things that have gone wrong. So there's no 
use trying to go to bed; I have to find something else to do.

The building manager turns the heat down to 65 at night. I know 
that doesn't sound cold, but in the middle of the night, it 
chills me. I bundle up in my robe and winter socks, and sometimes 
I make myself some hot chocolate or herbal tea. The beeping of 
the microwave sounds loud enough to wake the dead, so I always 
open the door a second before it's done. The hot chocolate 
warms my hands while I'm drinking it, but afterwards, the cold 
creeps back.

Sometimes I come to a stopping place and find my way to bed 
when there's still a few hours before I have to get up. Other 
times I keep working until the security light snaps off at 
05:02:39. By then, my neighbors are waking up and taking their 
showers, so I get started with mine. 

I suppose I could go in early every morning, but frankly, I'm 
not that anxious to get back to feeling inadequate. I make the 
most of my time at home, and get to work about the same time 
as everyone else. With any luck, I can spend all my time 
listening to Bud and Harriet about what they've been doing 
without being asked about my own life at all. 

In the morning I'm always tired. Not sleepy, really. A shower 
and a good breakfast are worth at least three hours of sleep, 
and coffee takes care of the rest. But I feel as ground down 
by the world as someone three times my age. My job uses all 
my energy. I try to focus on the task at hand and not think 
about my personal problems. The more tired I am, the easier 
that becomes. But I do get sleepy in the afternoon. I've 
been known to go out to my car for a nap if time allows. 
But usually I end up drinking more coffee in the afternoon, 
which is never a good idea. 

So when I finally get home at night, I'm wired on coffee and 
too tired to sleep. I putter around my apartment, finish my 
paperwork, and decide what I'm going to do with the rest of 
my night. At 20:05, the security light comes on again.