Morning: fugue state. Feel as if I’ve been slingshotted into a separate plane of time where the hours of the day feel drawn by random.
Evening: alert, focused. Each minute feels precious. Backlog of ideas overflowing. Dread having to go to bed at a time that feels ‘normal’.
A term I learned just this year: chronotypes. Basically, the preferred timing of the wake-sleep cycle varies among humans. Easy to imagine how that might have been useful from an evolutionary perspective: always someone to keep watch while the rest sleeps.
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