Here I am, posting at 11:22

when I promised myself I would be in bed by 10:30

so I could be up at 6:00

so I could go running before I catch the light rail to work

so I could burn some of those cubicle calories

so I could be energetic and positive during my workday

so I could carry on that energy as I head home

so I could perhaps meet an engaging young woman on the bus (ummm...chances of that...a billion to .01. I have a better chance of being hit by lightning and then robbed on the bus by Headsize Radio Man. On second thought, that contingency has quite good odds)

so I could ask her on a date Friday

so she could play it coy and say she's busy until to next week

so I could be cool and tell her next week'd be great except I'll be on a jet plane to Utah

so she could laugh chicly and tell me she's free on Thursday

so I could shrug my shoulders and mention that I could spare an hour or so

so she could sigh and casually mention that she wouldn't mind chatting over drinks

so I could suddenly remember that I found a Starbucks card in the dark sands of Huntington Beach with $8.10 still on the tab...but...not that a Starbucks card mattered or anything, because, after all, I am relatively wealthy

so she could smile, showing her Trident white teeth and glittering eyes and say, "sure, call me."

so I could pull out my phone and ask for her phone number

so she could start reading out the digits

so I could suddenly realize that I forgot to charge my phone

so she could say, "this is my stop! The Tempe ghetto! I do charity work here every Wednesday. Call me later tonight, David!" and then walk off the bus, leaving me up and biting my own tail

so I could come home, pieces of a man, bereft of even a spark of self-confidence and dignity.

No, Mr. Sandman. Not tonight. I'm staying up 'til twelve!