Last night I did something. Something I regret. Something that I am sorely paying for this morning. Something that has thrown my whole routine out of whack and left me somewhat delirious.

That’s right, last night I stayed up later than 11pm.

When I was a kid, the concept of a “bed time” was not only horrific, but somewhat insulting. Now, as I get older (and somehow not wiser) I find myself becoming more and more reliant on that which I had previously rejected.

For example, even as few as 5 years ago, I would think nothing of meeting friends for dinner, then heading to a bar, then seeing a band, then going to and after-hours spot, then to someone’s house or apartment to finish out the night. Not so much anymore. If I was to do that more than one night a month, I think I would actually require medical attention.

I just don’t know how the kids do it. It’s one of many things in my life that’s changing as I (glup) “grow up.” Stuff like this whole responsibility thing that I’m taking on with The 4th Wall. I’ve traditionally had at least one level of management that I could pass the buck to. Not so much anymore. It’s a frightening and exciting prospect, but one that I’m relishing.

As I write this, I’m preparing to head back west on the 401 to Toronto to pack up my stuff and meet the movers. When next we meet, I shall officially be a resident of La Belle Province. Don’t tell anyone though. I’ll lose my excuse for making right turns on red lights.

What, Officer? I’m from Ontario…


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