A week or so ago, I was chatting with Mike about how I was a morning person, and quite happy to be one. Aside for a couple years (ages 15-19), I've been getting up earlier than my peers and enjoying that sort of existence. It was really great when I was going to college, and summer mornings it could seem like no one for about a mile was up at 7 am except for me.

And now my work has switched me to a 7pm to 7am schedule, meaning I have now joined the dark side.

Except I haven't, really. I've been trying to stay up later and later each night, and get up closer to noon, but my body wasn't having it. I, barely, managed to push myself so I only woke up at 5am instead of 4am like normal. In about an hour, I start my first twelve hour shift on this schedule. I'm still sick form a week ago, I haven't had a nap, and disaster is just looming.

On the other hand, chances are awfully high I'll sleep straight through tomorrow, which means my second night on this schedule might not be as bad.

A while ago, I decided I would not read any YA book that had the word "Confession" in the title, as they tend to drive me batty. They just tend to be so lame and self indulgent that I could no longer stomach them. Well, I've amended that little motto, and have decided that I will merely not buy such books. To that end, I checked out of the library The Noah Confessions. I finally finished it today.

As an arguement against my earlier restrictions, it doesn't really measure up. Don't get me wrong, it is a fine book. A writer's book. By that I mean it is so obviously written by a former English major I want to shake my head at Ms. Hall and say, "There's this thing called subtlety," which is the last thing I can call anyone out on. I don't mind so much that she delibretely tweaks with standard story conventions to create this work. You know, "boy meets girl, boy gets girl, rival goes to prison." I like people who do that, as it makes otherwise trite set-ups a little more interesting. What I find inexcusable is that she calls attention to it in the course of the novel, as sort of a congratulatory pat on the back. I know, "the real world doesn't work like stories do." The author, in making that very point, seems to have forgotten that she was, in fact, writing a story.

When I was in high school, I wrote a story composed entirely of letters. I thought it was terribly clever back then, but I was seventeen at the time, and not particularly well-read at that. Ms. Hall, presumably, knows better. INCORPORATING LETTERS INTO A STORY DOES NOT AUTOMATICALLY MAKE INTERESTING OR DIFFERENT. There's an entire genre of fiction for it, for crying out loud. What it does, is make something straightforward into something inapproachable, by putting another viewers eyes between you and the source material (even though the same person writes the reader's and the writer's thoughts). It is when you incorporate that level of disconnect into the plot (which, I will say, Ms. Hall does try to do, but doesn't quite pull off) that you can achieve anything. But that is true of all plot elements.

Okay. Breathing normally now. Which is good, because it is time to earn my paycheck. I have a bottle of vanilla coke and some animal cookies, which saw me through many an allnighter in college. Wish me luck!