Note to self: staying out until 2:00 and up until 3:00 the last two nights may be an indication that my life is going to hell in a hand basket. Oh, wait, my life went to hell in a rocket launcher at the beginning of the year, so that can't be it. Never mind.
When I got home last night, I got online to check messages, blog and e-mail a friend about getting together later in the week. When I got up, I had a response, essentially asking what the hell I was doing e-mailing at 2:43 a.m. and did it mean that I'd gotten lucky last night? Whoa, whoa, is there some equation about late night e-mailing and sexual success? Is this a night owl secret to which I'd not been privy?
And then on my walk today, one of my regulars chided me for walking so much later than usual and I tried excusing my tardiness with my late night alibi. "Oh, you bad girl, you," he said suggestively. Yea, that's me, the ultimate bad girl.
In the future, I might be better off keeping my late nights to myself to avoid speculation about my whereabouts. Unfortunately for me, they're not nearly as juicy as some people would apparently hope for. Maybe I just need to pick up my game. As if.