Late Show

In which our heroine is a night owl.

The past week or so has felt like my pre-pandemic life: barely home any night, always something to do, falling asleep at ungodly hours and sleeping until them, too.

I am, of course, not 31 anymore, so the latter in particular are a little more difficult. But it’s a rush of joy, a feeling of being alive, that I still get but maybe not always in night owl …