The 2am street report

Woke up at 1:47 and that was apparently that for sleep. Jake was completely out — the man sleeps like he filed paperwork for it — so I grabbed my water glass and migrated to the window instead of lying there manufacturing anxiety in the dark.

The 2am street report

The street below was almost empty. Post-Fourth of July Sunday, so anyone who had somewhere to be had already been there and anyone who didn’t was home sleeping like a reasonable person. But there was this one couple — maybe mid-twenties, both in those matching tie-dye sets that kept showing up everywhere this summer — having what was clearly a Very Serious Conversation on the sidewalk directly below me. I couldn’t hear a word. I could only see body language. Arms crossing, then uncrossing. One of them gesturing toward something down the block. Then the other one laughing, suddenly, completely unexpectedly, and the whole posture of the first one just… softened. Whatever it was, it resolved. They walked off together toward the corner and were gone.

I sat there for probably another forty minutes after that. There’s something about watching people at 2am that feels different from daylight people-watching — everyone out at that hour has a reason, even if you can’t know what it is. The couple with their argument and their laugh. A guy walking a dog so small it was basically a concept. A delivery driver who sat in his car for six full minutes doing nothing before driving away. I made up elaborate backstories for all of them. It’s either a sign that I’m a creative thinker or that I really need to sleep more. Probably both.

The street was completely empty except for one guy walking a dog. We made eye contact through four floors of glass. He absolutely knew.

Got back to bed around 3. The archive coordination work is sitting in the back of my head constantly right now — I’ve been thinking about the calls I made to Margaret’s family contacts last week, about how much more emotionally layered this is than I expected. Maybe that’s the real reason I was at the window. Sometimes your brain needs to watch strangers solve problems before it’ll let you rest.