I look on with sympathy whenever tenants and neighbors walk down the street at 10:00 PM, neatly dressed and on their way to night-shift jobs. I was like that at some point in time, and am glad that I no longer am. I am much more content being where I am right now, sipping an iced root beer at M.'s cafe while writing in my notebook. The granddaughters are already, safely ensconced in their bedrooms on the upper floor. I can spend as much time as I want here, and even possibly graduate from root beer to malt beer.