It’s 3am and I’m still up
Not for the usual reasons.
There’s no beasts at my door
Nary a cloud to threaten my pate with showers
Not a beat or a drop being drunk
No trains to far off snow streaked drips
Nor a silken skinned goddess thieving my sleep
With manacling locks and glazed over eyes
It’s more mundane and a lot less dramatic
Making calls to far off lands
Organising, rectifying.
Office work for the witching hours
Adulting is such fun
Yaaaay