One reason to maybe not stay up until five in the morning:

You may wake up at one in the afternoon.

You may wake up to your romantic interest's phone call.

You may wake up and say what you think is, "Hello, may I ask who's calling please?" but is actually, "Lo my ass who cal ling pluz?"

(The phrase, even correctly spoken, may be a silly thing to say because most phones, these days, tell the recipient who is calling before it is even answered. But you just woke up and there are unicorns in your brain, so who knows what the ringy-thing on your desk really does?)

You may have to admit, on the phone, that you were writing until late and so slept until late, but it was eight hours of sleep and that's all you need. And that you are making your bed. And oh, by the way, how are you?

You may have to say, when your conversational dance partner announces that she is off to scrounge for lunch, that you are off to do the same--but for breakfast.

And then, finally, you may head straight to this strange land called Livejournal to type up a post (like, a fence post? oh, nevermind) and ultimately decide that it was all worth it to hear her ask, "Is this Kiwi?" and giggle herself senseless. ("I guess it's a wake-up call!")

Hello. My name is Kiwi Kiwanicus Crocus Street the Short, and this is my life.

(Awkward giraffe is awkward.)