Leftover make up and nostalgic nights

In the morning (or afternoons, lately), when I wake up, one may tell what happened to me the night before by mere observation of time and appearance. If I wake between the hours of 8am-10am, this means I had a very boring night and retreated to bed early, due to lack of happening events. (This happens very infrequently). If I wake between the hours of 12pm-2pm, I had a really great night full of friends, lots of exercise, good food, and any illegally obtained movie on the internet to put me to sleep when I get home around 3. 

Now the time of when I wake up  gives subtle indicators, but the biggest giveaways are my hair and smeared makeup. If I have a good night where I stay up long past the time I naturally would have fallen asleep and exhausted myself, I wake up in the morning looking exactly the same way as I did when I hit the sack. I am normally so tired that I don't move at all in my sleep. It's the smeared makeup on my face and pillow, as well as my messy, unpredictable hair that gives away a restless and uneasy sleep. 

Nighttime seems almost magical to me. Deep conversations flow easily and emotions seem to float effortlessly in the air. Most people find my nocturnal habits peculiar, but I find them very suiting to me. I love the feeling of knowing most everyone around me is unconscious  and dreaming. It's not that it gives me a sense of power or loneliness, but it makes me feel like the world has just naturally created a time for everything to sleep and me to think and write alone when everything is peaceful. This sense of nirvana is what I love and I find it awaiting me every night when I come back to my apartment. It feels like the nostalgia you get when thinking of your first kiss (the foot popping one), the first snow or summer nights with your friends.