the corner office

My entire life, birds chirping outside has meant that the sun is coming up, ie. it's time to go to bed. Tonight, it's 11h30, I'm sitting here at the dining table, tinkering on the laptop, Ronwen's dulcet preggy-snores gentle breathing occasionally emanating from the bedroom, and there's a bird chirping in the tree outside. Is it just confused or are British birds crazy? I feel completely unsettled, for the first time in years I have that guilty 'it's going to be a looong day on 2 hours of sleep' feeling.

On a related note, I always thought daffodils were really pretty flowers. I still think they're pretty, but considering how they're squeezing up absolutely everywhere, I'm mentally reclassifying them as weeds.