The Wise Man's Early Retreat.

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I go to bed early. Not because I’m tired. Not because I’m weak. But because the world after 9 p.m. is a carnival of fools and fluorescent regret. 

Sleep is a fortress. A man should rise with the sun and fall with the whiskey. I’ve found that nothing good happens after dark unless you’re gutting a fish or fixing a tractor. And I don’t own a tractor. Anymore.

People ask me why I don’t stay up to “watch things.” I tell them: if it’s worth watching, it’ll be carved into wood and mounted on a wall. Otherwise, it’s just noise.

So yes, I go to bed early. I sleep like a log. A proud, unbothered log. And when I wake, I make breakfast. With bacon. Not because it’s trendy. Because it’s bacon.

Now if you’ll excuse me, it’s 9:01. I’ve already stayed up too late.

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