Night being subjective, of course. It’s always night in space. Always day, too. Really, I suppose it depends on if there’s something between you and the sun. Which probably gets really confusing if someone stands between you and a window.

“It’s time to go to bed. As long as Jerry doesn’t move.” And then he moves, and it’s all “ah, man, I can never get enough sleep.” But then it’s okay, because he if does it four more times, then it’s the weekend. That’s how time works.

Okay, that’s how time could work. And anyway, whose gonna stop it from working that way. You? You’re not the boss of time. Jerry’s the boss of time. At least as long as he keeps standing near that window.

I gotta stop writing these things at 12:30 in the morning.