Insomniacs unite!

Maggie says:
Most of my life, I am a super-mellow, carefree, smile-on-my-face kind of person (thanks Dad). Sometimes, though, my take-no-prisoners, focused, awesome-under-pressure side comes out in full force (thanks Mom). More often than not, these moments happen for me in the middle of the night. I've always been a night owl, and still can't kick the rush of accomplishment or indulgence I get when I'm engaged but everyone else is sleeping. I've found that these moments can be broadly categorized into two areas: Deadline Maggie and Middle-of-the-night-inspiration Maggie.

• Deadline Maggie: This is the me that Mikaela can identify with the most. We went through this together so many times in grad school it boggles the mind to try and remember it all. But I see lots of coffee, Frontier food, a computer lab or a studio space, and no one else there but Mikaela and me. Just the two of us left, making it all right for the next day's deadline. And of course, kicking ass on said project.
  
• Middle-of-the-night-inspiration Maggie: This is the me that Marjorie can identify with the most. We both get eyeball-deep in weird side projects or struck with fantastic impulses late at night, and can find ourselves still in the thick of them through morning without quite realizing where all those hours went. This is when a lot of writing happens, a lot of organizing and rearranging happens, a lot of mental lists get checked off, and a lot of big ideas are born. Somehow, things can seem plausible and get finished in the middle of the night that seem far too daunting in the light of day.

Tonight, it was inspiration me. Tossing and turning. A downstairs office shut off from humanity because its piles of clean yet now-hopelessly wrinkled laundry, Christmas decorations (!), and boxes were blocking the doorway. Yikes. But in the middle of the night, anything's possible.

The room is now spotless. Bare seating areas and surfaces, bare floor, everything folded, the closet organized. We've had a big home improvement weekend (that's my gorgeous new rug below), so it's fitting that I'd finally get to it at 2 a.m. Sunday morning. I wonder when Trevor will get used to my strange insomniac cleaning fits. They certainly don't happen any other time.

Another reason my head's racing this weekend? Keeping up with a new little sister for Switters, he of the literary namesake and the burned tail. The new kitten's name is Fanny, and she's the craziest, cutest 1-pounder in this zip code. She's never even seen the downstairs office before (also known as "Switters' Clubhouse"), so she's in for a big treat when she wakes up.

Good rest-of-the-night, everyone. :-)