Sunday Night Allergy

I have always always always had trouble getting to sleep on Sunday nights - except maybe when I was in Egypt and the weekend was Friday-Saturday - then Saturday nights were surely a bear. The reasons for this are not too complicated - stay up later on the weekend, anxiety/anticipation for the week, etc, and thanks to sleepless Sunday nights in high school and the cable-less tv in my room, I discovered Tom Waits Austin City Limits appearance from the late 70s - an experience that led me both to a greater appreciation of pork-pie hats and, as a shared reference, helped catalyze my friendship with my best Christopher during our first year of college. However, last night, Waits-less and full of adrenaline (and, admittedly, some caffeine from the latte I had at 4 to offset the sangria I had between 2 and 3:30), I found company in the form of one loud, utterly confused bird who had taken up residence amidst the floodlights of my Cuban neighbors. The lights are on all night - and I can imagine that, to a young bird from the country, they make it seem like city dawn lasts from 9pm until actual dawn. And I certainly feel empathy for that - but really, so much chirping? It started around maybe 11 and, when I finally dozed off close to 4, and it was still going strong. I hope that the rain is providing enough darkness for the little guy to get some rest, but more than that, I hope it, like me, decides that this particular lot isn't really a long-term solution, and finds another tree to lay its head and call home tonight.