I looked to the screen on my laptop flatly as I typed away at the keys. It was the stroke of midnight; my eyes were bloodshot from staring at the screen for the last few hours. I noticed the habit was starting to ruin my eyesight as I recently had my eyes examined and it was discovered that my right eye was unbalanced with my left one, concerning sight. Not to say that I am blind, only to say it prevents me from driving without glasses and seeing at a good distance. My time in the computer annoys me but I need it. In these times, technology was a necessity. The population was literally hooked on machinery to a point where we became too dependent on them. It is sad, really. Young children play differently then they did all those years ago when the world was not corrupted with technology. They use to go to the park and play tag—a game that isn't very well known today. Now, they play with cold heartless machinery such as the computer, updated gaming programs, and television. I'll bet yah the I.Q of people will lower to a point where they can't even think for themselves! Yes, yes, yes and then we will be conquered by our own creations! Just you watch! Just you—

I shook my head and confronted the nuisance once more. I replayed the film continuously on repeat. It would be something you'd see off the cliché' obsessed person. Pause, continue, pause, and continue! That was the pattern of my research while I multitasked with my reports on recent discoveries. I haven't made very much. In fact, I'm possibly the worst Archeologist in the world. The only thing I found was a diary from Anastasia Romanov when I went on that trip to Russia but it was pure luck. Of course, I do not have it with me now as there are laws in every country that Historians must abide by. My discoveries belong to the state, country, or wherever and not to me. Ah well, that proves my point of being awfully fruitless. Life must go on, right?

I sipped on my can of soda lazily. I ignored the mess at my desk feeling quite irritable, kind of hard to pretend that stacks of bills weren't taunting you with its prices, scattered pens begging to be stuffed into the cabinet, the lamp that was starting to flicker. The cherry wood furniture emphasized the mess with its contrast in color. The green lamp was old and dusty so it was no wonder the bulb was struggling to keep its incandescent light—hopefully it burned out because I simply hate to see this dump. A dump I created. Guilt finally won me over once I threw away my soda into the trash bi and swept the table free from its content. I wiped the dust off the cherry wood desk with a sheet of bounty as well at the lamp. It finally died out. It was my time to get to bed.

I walked to the bathroom and did the nightly basics before kissing my grandpa goodnight. I slipped into the comfort of my bed and looked out my window. "Interview…" I murmured. I almost forgot my own plan too. I knew exactly what to do, simply show my stuff and boast about my single discovery—ok that was a terrible plan. Perhaps, give words of flattery and wheedle out of disapproval. My mind was on the move again—it was most active at night where the silence made it all the harder to stay thoughtless. My eyes were glued to the ceiling but my thoughts were wandering the present, past, and future. To a point where I was nearly seeing spots! Were my Grandpa to see me, he'd smack his thinly lips "I thought I was crazy…I guess you proved me wrong, little one." And give his most charming laugh. He was a kooky man, so, I should know where I get my weird tendencies. I smiled at the thought of him. I call him, Doc because of the way he acts quite similar to the elderly man in the classic, Back to the future.

Half an hour passed with a still restless mind.

I suppose I was excited for the interview tomorrow.

I'm out---good night.