I accidentally figured out my perfect going to sleep time last night. Ten-forty. It makes sense, it’s basically seven hours. I wasn’t happy with six, I wasn’t happy trying to get eight. But seven seems to work. Ten-forty is a perfectly reasonable time to go to bed. It’s not quite eleven, which was the problem because once you hit eleven, does eleven-fifteen matter and once you hit eleven-fifteen, eleven-thirty is fine. After eleven-thirty, it’s a strange abyss. There’s no good time anymore, so what do you do? I’ve been thinking I want to pull an all-nighter pretty soon, which I haven’t done in years. Because it’s a dumb idea. Still, might be fun.