when you're still working at 3am

you get this kind of macho, "let's see if I can last until sunrise" feeling. When I worked in the corporate world in London, "pulling an all-nighter" made you one of the contenders. You tossed it off the next morning, as colleagues walked in:

"Oh yeah, I was here all night."

As a lone poet, there's no one to boast to. And working this late is not a testament to my dedication or diligence - it's the sorry result of hours, days, lost in dithering, procrastination, resistance to all the tasks that felt too big and scary. But there's still an exhilaration, a satisfaction, I get from finally getting on with it, and getting stuff DONE.