The Beast Quiets

So today I skipped my requisite afternoon nap and powered through the day with little if any whining or PMS-like attitude. Usually, without my daily siesta, I am stone-cold beat early at night and can fall asleep at a decent hour. You would think I'd have capitalized on this nugget of self-knowledge to cure this insomnia o' mine, but I treasure my catnaps too much and my ultra-flexible schedule, til now, afforded me the luxury. This slight change in routine indicates that life is slowly shifting into some semblance of normalcy. Good? Bad? Must think upon it further.

This morning my partners and I spent our first full day in our new "office" in a downtown incubator where we can convene daily and shoot the shit about the latest developments in the enzymatic catalysis world. Til now, we've met in libraries, classrooms, living rooms, etc. Now, we can plan our days and meeting times/places a little more consistently.

Despite some of these transitions that I view as the possible onset of the homogenization of my days (the office, sleeping instead of 'rambling' through the night, being tied to a new apartment lease--when I freaking finally find one, that is), I will desperately hold onto the vagabond within. Maybe just two siestas a week then (quite the rebel, eh.)