Never sleep at odd hours, they say.

Never sleep at odd hours, always says mom. Alas, for how much heed we pay to those simple, yet numerous things mothers keep saying!
1:36 am on early Friday morning, here I am, typing a blog post. A cup of hot, steaming Milo sitting on my desk, my table lamp on, soft songs playing in the background, ‘Life of Pi’ open and spread on its front, and a drawing block which just plainly stares back at me.
Waking up after a weirdo three-hour-headache-prompted-funny sleep, I have lost orientation. My music had been on all through my sleep, and I wonder how many times the songs played in a loop. Interesting.

I am suddenly full of energy and enthusiasm, to do what, I don’t know. I walk out of my room to make Milo, and I find people in the TV room studying. I am inspired even more, and I rush back and take up my drawing block to think of ideas. New ideas, supposed-to-be-creative ads for a portfolio to be shown to people who could possibly employ me for the next 6 months. Bah, nothing. After all, creativity begins with a blank paper and pencil.
I am wide awake, in the mood for everything from taking a walk in the lovely orange-hue filled campus, or simply sitting in the bus stop and staring at the rich, creamy moon – she is just beautiful!

Totally random, I know.. but excuse me for the fact that I woke up just ten minutes ago and am still wondering if it is Saturday instead of Friday. Dreamy, disoriented, and bursting with enthusiasm which will probably go unheeded and unused.
Never sleep at odd hours, they say.