The real late night is after two. The bars have to be closed. Between two and four. Because if you’re leaving a four a.m. bar, you’ve already made a choice about the rest of the day. Any time before two, there are things to be done, there is caffeine; if five hours is possible, anything is possible. Adjust for wake up times, of course, but I’m thinking about it as a “day off” up late. Four is almost morning. Five is morning during some of the year. Or is it just when the birds start. I remember those little bastards, so loud I’d have trouble going to sleep. They became the outside. If you hear birds chirp, just push through the rest of the day. But the real late night is in between. In between when you can make the day happen with sleep and without. It’s not a magic time, it’s just a self-indulgent one.