Long day of work.  Wilted like a flower on the dashboard.  Unshowered.  Eyeballs overworked.  Feet plump.  It’s not over.  Works done, but the day isn’t over.  There’s still time for fun.  Time to play the drums.  Time to jump behind a sewing machine and stitch up your favorite jeans.  Time to throw the ball at the dog.  Time to smoke a joint and water the dirt patches in the lawn.  There’s energy left.  You’ve just got to dig for it.

    You could go to sleep.  Sure.  You could crawl right under the covers with your dirty feet and you’d be out in thirty seconds.  You’d be snoring, drooling, dreaming of something pointless.  Dreaming about work, or what bills have to be paid.  Might as well stay up.  You accepted the lemons from life, might as well squeeze the fuck out of them.  Every last drop.  You’ll sleep.  But first, get some fun.

    Wake the wife up and let her know that you’ve still got the wolf in you.  Tear the pillows and sheets apart and howl at the moon.  You’re not too tired for that.  Go fix that thing you’ve been meaning to fix.  Or hit it with a sledge hammer.  Jump in the pool at midnight and do the breast stroke.  Do it ass-naked or fully clothed.  Dry off.  Wake the neighbors up.  Music.  Sing it.  Wiggle a little.  If the cops show up, so what.  Turn it down.  Consider it a wellness check.  They’re just making sure you’re alive.

    You could have stopped for food on the way home.  Late.  Traffic.  So forth.  Not too late to barbecue.  Put it on the grill.  Open a beer.  Look at the stars.  Let the smoke warm you up.  If you don’t have anything to go with the meat, good.  You don’t need anything else.  Eat it with your hands.  Give a bone to the dog so he stops staring like an asshole.

    Maybe you should call someone.  If it goes to voicemail, tell them you love them.  First, tell them that they’re missing out on some midnight barbecue.  Serenade them.  Give them something good and entertaining to listen to in the morning.

    We’ve all got work in the morning.  Big deal.  What’s the worse that could happen?  More tired.  The job will get done.  Maybe tomorrow we’ll all go to sleep early.  Catch up a little.  But that isn’t on the menu tonight.  Tonight is about rebellion.  Tonight is for the circles under the eyes.  To prove that they aren’t fatal.  To prove that they’ve got to do more digging than that to get to the good stuff.  Tonight is about showing off the reserve tank.  The needle might be on E, but the motor is running just fine.

    If you need a coffee or a nightcap, do what you’ve got to do.  But don’t do it gently.  You’ve been doing everything passively, all day.  It’s time to rev it a little.  Get the juices flowing. You won’t run out of gas, not yet.  Maybe later, you’ll end up asleep on the kitchen floor, under a pizza box of good decisions.  But you’ll wake up feeling brand new.  The alarm will go off.  Because the alarm always goes off.  And you’ll get to whatever it is that needs getting.

    Whatever you do, don’t start looking at the clock and counting your fingers.  Let everyone else worry about time.  You’ve worried about time all day long.  Who gives a fuck?  Not you.  Not tonight.  That alarm is going to go off when it’s ready.  Knowing the minutes until it happens doesn’t do anything for anyone.  You’ve got a belly full of steak, or ribs, or hotdogs and the last thing you need is an upset stomach from worrying.  You can’t control tomorrow’s traffic.  You can’t control the coming storm.  But you can decide to have a little fun, tonight.  Don’t postpone it this time.  You need it.  It’s good for you.  Take it.