Typically, I'm the last one up in my house. Most nights I'll turn off all the lights downstairs, and then before I go up to bed, I like to look out the window and just gaze thoughtfully at the street for a while.
I don't like to do it for to long, though, because in the movies, that's when a zombie would come shambling by my window. Then I would have to stumble backwards in horror, just as they started smashing their decaying limbs through the windows, driven by their insatiable hunger for brains. And, frankly, replacing windows is a pain, and I'm in no hurry to do it. Although it would do nice things for my heating bill.
* * * * *
One of the dangers of sharing a public restroom with the rest of your building is that, at any time and without warning, other people can render it utterly uninhabitable. I work in a fairly small office, in a building shared with several other similar offices. Every floor shares a single common restroom for each gender.
Our men's room suffers frequent (almost daily) assaults from one individual who seems to be suffering from a severe fiber deficiency. In our office, we've taken to referring to this man as the "Sh*t Cannon". If you don't have the good fortune to get your business done before the Cannon fires, just forget about it, because it's not happening afterwards.
The other day, one of my co-workers came back from the men's room with an oddly triumphant expression on his face.
"What're you so happy about, Bob?" I asked.
"You may refer to me as Saint Bob," he replied.
He nodded. "Oh yeah. Because that bathroom's just been canonized."
What I'm trying to say is: sometimes, you need to find little ways to motivate yourself.
* * * * *