I have trouble sleeping almost every night.
I work so often at Target and usually it's the only thing of substance I do in a day that I am still working at Target when I get home.
I rolled over last night and my hands started folding my pillow case like a t-shirt. When I shook what sleep I had accomplished out of my eyes I saw that I had pulled all my clothes out of their drawers and folded them on the floor.
My bedding was also folded and I was sleeping inside a cardboard box full of sandwiches and Christmas lights. So of course I felt a little thirsty, which is why I walked downstairs to get a glass of water from that big hairy guy who was moving all our appliances out onto the lawn. He seems nice, but I wouldn't lend him money.
I don't mean he would skip out on a check if you had lunch together, but he's got shifty eyes, like a parrot. I've always thought of feathered things as the dumbest part of the animal kingdom. 
But wolves, ah. They're the ninjas of the great big circle of life.
Imagine you and your wife walking through the grocery store--BAM! Oh man, a wolf just killed you guys.
Then there's Mike; he's some kind of football player. All he ever wanted was to play in the big ga--GORT! Those damn wolves just ruined Junior Prom! What'll they think of next?
Of course the woodsman keeps his eye out for any funny business. All alone there in his shack/cabin he whittles and writes letter to a long lost love named Bar--JEFF! Remember little Goldilocks woodsman? The wolves do.
I work at 1 pm so I don't really do anything in the morning, unless you count evacuating my house at 10:3o due to a broken gas line. I work until 9:30 pm.
What's up with the all-day shift? I'll tell you what's up.
Everything is closed; except clubs which I don't know the location of, and wouldn't have the faintest idea of what to do once I was inside them; and since I hate dancing and meeting new people who wear cheap fragrances and speak cheap English while listening to cheap music I don't see any reason why I would be happy going there, being there or leaving there five minutes later. Not my scene I suppose.
Even if there were restaurants open at that time (I understand most stay open until 10 at least) who would want to grab a bite at near-to-ten o'clock? None of my friends. I'm not even sure I want to eat at 10, although my stomach says otherwise.
So I wander home, check e-mail only to find Facebook notifications and junk mail from Amazon.com, and eventually watch a boring movie with my brother until my head hurts and then attempt to go to sleep.
It was at this point in the post writing process that my mind broke and I went back and changed everything I had written.
And who can begrudge them their hard earned early sleep times?
