I tend to sleep late, relatively speaking. So, apparently, does David Sedaris, who mentions it in passing in an essay in the NYer about … many things, including living in Normandy, hardscrabble lives, gay sex, social roles, and buying pot:
“… the exact moment I roll out of bed, which is usually between ten and ten-thirty. For me this is early, but for Hugh and most of our neighbors it’s something closer to midday. What they do at 6 A.M. is anyone’s guess. I only know that they’re incredibly self-righteous about it, and talk about the dawn as if it’s a personal reward, bestowed on account of their great virtue.”
Thank goodness the sunset is no respecter of persons.