My Theory Behind Why Worknight Is Not A Word But Workday Is

It’s not natural. That’s what it is. A worknight—or, the terrible thing I have dubbed writing after dinner hours—is so dastardly, unpolished, and turdlike that the dictionaries have refused it. But it exists.

(And let me say, I understand that work night is a thing, y’know, a composition of English words. BUT, worknight is not a thing.)

I got up about half a hour ago to stretch my legs and think about the bad and awful writing I had just written. What the hell am I doing? I AM WRITING, SHUT UP. I took a few deep breaths, some push ups (gave up), climbed on some things around the house, and looked in a mirror and HOLY CRAP, I LOOK LIKE GARBAGE. That’s what a worknight is. A lot of shouting, and you have so little energy, that your body quits trying to make your face and complexion like a creature that deserves food and sunlight.

I remember stuff like this. It was called college. But it’s not quite like this. There are no classes that last for 8 hours, are sandwiched between commutes, and are every single weekday. Sure, you had some class, strolled between places, chatted with bumped-into homeys, went to a lab, left early because you felt like it, ate something, went home, napped, and then did your diligent studying and homework. Then you got to go out. Hey, not bad.

But this… this workday into a worknight thing. Totally unreal. Let me break it down into the multi-variable equations that haunt my sleep cycle.
1.5 commute hours
8 workDAY hours
1.5 commute hours
0.5 hours dinner
5 workNIGHT hours
———-
= – 800 hours of sleep

MY GOD.

But hey, I’m not a needy guy. I’m just a dude, blarging about my totally normal and generally complacent life. Phew. Good, thanks for listening to that. The whining has ended and now I can officially get back to writing.

Seriously though, not sure how many of you out there are fighting the good fight on these worknights, but let us band together and tell all those people struggling at 3pm on a workday to SACK UP.

PS. I totally wish blarging were a viable thing at work. But, as we can all see, it’s not very conducive to me writing my novel! Now which work am I talking about?

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