One in the morning is my time in my house. I sleep very late and I stay up very late. This has never been a disputed principle of my life. Until now.

My sister, Ms. I'm-Happy-And-Annoyingly-Chipper-In-The-Morning, has decidedly taken over my time. She's sitting in the living room watching TV right now, at the time when I'm usually being creative, smoking, and spastically jumping around my living room in the fashion of Henry Rollins, in his Black Flag years.

This does not sit well with me. This is my time. Do not invade it. That is all I ask. But now, my sister wants to be on my internet, MY INTERNET, at one in the morning. I'm getting the suddenly urge to beat her until she cries uncle, while I'm shouting, "GO TO BED! GO TO BED! THIS IS MY TIME! GO TO BED!" But, that would cause some sort of turmoil in my family, I am sure.

I don't care that she wants to talk to her little raver buddies. She is invading MY TIME. I think I'm going to make a rule that there is no one to be awake in this house after midnight without my permission. I was listening to the radio and she turns on the TV. Can you not respect my peace? I need this. You go hang out with your friends as a release. I spend time alone. I have to work tomorrow, selling multiple drunks half-pints of Mohawk Vodka at ten in the morning, and I need to have my time alone. I can't have that time while you are sitting in the living room watching reruns of Suddenly Susan on WGN.

Screw it. I'm going upstairs to my room to pout.