3 a.m., I will kill you if it's the last thing I do

I'm always a little creeped out when something mundane has gone on too long. This afternoon, it was the way the men's room was occupied for hours. I was convinced someone had had a heart attack in there, so I finally said, "Hello!" through the door. There was no answer so I said it again, and finally the dude inside responded. It didn't get him out any faster, but I only wanted to wash my hands anyway (yes, I was harboring a desire to wash my hands all afternoon), so ... yeah, it was kind of a zero-sum annoyance.

This evening, I had to take my curtains down because my building owner is replacing all the windows in the building and tomorrow is my apartment's turn. There's a really bright light coming in from the sconces on front of the building, but what's more disturbing are the lights in the apartment across the courtyard: it's 3am and all the lights are still on. I'm not about to pull a Rear Window, but come on ... if the apartment's vacant, then keeping the light on all night won't get a new tenant in there any faster, and if there is a tenant, then clearly he died this evening.

[I'm not concerned by the invasion of privacy caused by having no curtains up. If someone hasn't seen me in my undahpants before today, then clearly they haven't been trying hard enough.]

I was anticipating pulling an all-nighter this evening, so I had a nap and a Diet Coke earlier, but after realizing that my ftp program is being uncooperative and that I don't really know what I'm doing anyway, I'd like to sleep and deal with it tomorrow morning. I can't, though, because of the aforementioned nap and Diet Coke, and because these lights coming in from outside are so bright, and because there might be a dead guy across the way, and because all I can think of as I lie in bed is how to deal with hypothetical confrontations. It's a bit anxiety-inducing (the confrontations part, anyway; dead bodies are more a red-tape kind of hassle than anything else), but it's preferable to the realization that my behaviour since December has been loathesome and yet unavoidable. I think it's because I don't believe in fate that the realization is disturbing; if my loathesome behaviour was unavoidable -- as I believe it was -- then doesn't that point to some sort of belief in fate? I cherish the randomness of the universe and would hate to see that come to an end after a bit too much self-reflection.