Blogging after midnight is just plain stupid.  Especially when I have two alarm clocks that go off at seven (or earlier) every morning (rain or shine, power outage or not.)  I keep telling myself this is the last time…just one more minute and I’m done forever, but then I keep thinking, writing, and coming back here…droning on and on. 

Why??!!

What’s the big perk?  The big payoff?  The big deal?

Instead of becoming Leo Tolstoy (which I know is a stretch already because I’m neither published, Russian, nor living in the 19th century), I’m just another over-tired, underpaid, and overly myopic blogger.  (Do you know that "blog" probably wasn’t even a word 5 years ago. I wonder how Leo would use it in a sentence without knowing what it meant.)  Even the irony of complaining about all this right now isn’t as satisfying as actually sleeping would be…so I’m going to bed.

Leo looks so peaceful. (Is he dead in this picture?)  Sweat dreams, Gandalf.