In regards to doing my laundry at 1am

It’s 1 am. I’m doing laundry. I’m the only sole in the communal laundry room in my apartment complex.

It’s amazing.

I hate doing laundry in the first place. It always feels so tedious and time consuming. And given my inclination towards procrastination — often an all-day chore.

Thankfully my work schedule has shifted ever so slightly lately. Now I work later into the night and my immediate time afterwards is during this magical hour when most sane people have already gone to bed.

Protecting my free time to pursue projects that excite me is my current priority. And using this late night time, after everyone else has gone to bed, to complete chores and keep my house in order has almost zen-like qualities.

I can close my day out with a sense of accomplishment, regardless of how horrendous things went at my actual job.

My fiance doesn’t get it. She forces herself to stay up late to see me after work. I adore that about her. But she’s winding down right as I’m winding up.

I’m on a mission of vague purpose, destination, and irreverent intent.

But getting chores done at 1am, especially my laundry, fills me with a sense of calm and accomplishment that a more reasonable bedtime just doesn’t give me.