Format the following passage properly, for storytelling purposes.

Indiscernible dialogue can be heard from the television in the living room. A house-mate with whom I've become exceptionally close, all things considered, is most likely still partaking of whatever programming is being transmitted through the Xfinity satellite feed. In a few minutes, I predict that this TV will be turned off, as will the hallway light. The dining room light has already been turned off, as I found out when I left my room to get some water. Having had this entire day to myself as a result of Passover and with three house-mates away from the home, I've found myself looking for ways to keep myself occupied. Sure enough, both the TV and the hallway light are now off. I am left to my thoughts once again. It seems I spent much of the day revisiting some of my favorite games of the past. While I don't regret testing my hand-eye coordination, I do regret that perhaps it wasn't the most optimal way to spend my free time today. I'm not sure what tomorrow has in store, whether it will be a repeat of today or there are any events planned. Hopefully we might have an outing of some kind but I strongly doubt it. Tonight, I will allow myself the privilege of staying up a little bit longer, as there is no work scheduled for Wednesday. However, starting Wednesday night, the plan is to get back in a routine of going to bed early and getting a copious amount of rest, so that I can be completely rejuvenated, mentally conditioned, and physically prepared for whatever work awaits me that day. Rocky Marciano, the legendary heavyweight champion who remains the only champion in that weight class to retire without ever tasting defeat, believed that he could defeat any fighter in the world as long as he worked harder than everyone else. For example, if Joe Louis ran six miles a day, Rocky would run twelve. There has to be more than a little truth to his theory. Any fighter who can win forty-nine consecutive bouts in the heavyweight division, where it is extremely difficult to go on a long winning streak as these are big men who can end a fight with one punch, should be considered an authority on the intangibles involved in pugilistic success, and many of those intangibles can easily be translated to other facets of living. I've noticed that when I get a lot of sleep I have more energy throughout a given day; on Monday, I slept as though I'd have to work eight hours, and found myself maintaining my potency and strength from sunrise to sunset. Abstinence from particular forms of self-gratification has only served to increase my energy. At 31, I feel as though I have tapped into a fountain of youth, as though I've cracked the code on new ways of living that will enable me to retain the stamina of a young man well into middle age. I look at people twice my age who managed to beat the odds, not only resembling someone my age in looks but their endurance. I refuse to believe this is my peak. My potential is unlimited. I will conquer my obesity. I will become an ageless wonder. If you sleep to work four hours when you're only scheduled for two, or eight hours for four, or sixteen hours for eight, you give yourself not only enough energy to complete whatever needs to be done that day, but leave yourself with a reserve of extra energy that you can tap into when you find yourself needing to dig deep, to bring out the best in yourself. I remember reading of someone who was investing hundreds of thousands, if not upwards of a million dollars, into technologies that would allow him to remain a certain age 'eternally'. Of course, our time will come, and we will say goodbye to all we've accumulated on this Earth. No one can live forever, no one can cheat the Creator. But I hope to remain young for a long time, not only in my vitality but in my spirit. Surrounded by house-mates who are dealing with all sorts of challenges, it makes me more grateful to be in the position I am in, not having to take any medications, and thus far not dealing with crippling pain in my body--though I was dealing with some lower back pain earlier tonight. If the body is a temple, the time has come to get serious about its maintenance. I find myself fighting back yawns, but it is not an overwhelming tiredness. My body tries to send signals to the brain for me to stop writing and turn in for the night. "No," my essence cries out. "More must be done." And so a recurring battle is once again fought, as I find the will to soldier on just a little bit longer, the brain and body vying for pole position in a race where the finish line remains long out of sight. A temperamental bulb in the closet proves the perfect nighttime companion for a writing session, providing just enough illumination to light the room and set the mood. "This is perfect," I say to myself. Even when I go to the bathroom, I have found comfort in turning on just one light placed above the shower. It is precisely the right level of luminescence, subdued yet still bright enough to ensure you can see all that you're doing. My phone is quite luminescent, making for an efficient night light during my resting hours, though I must be careful to ensure that it is not overwhelmingly radiant. I must also be careful not to get caught in the 'scrolling trap', as a few moments to check a feed can quickly turn into an hour-long session of reading articles and watching YouTube videos. Last night I found myself revisiting an old fascination: television sign-offs, from the days when stations did not operate on a 24/7 basis. It is telling that patriotism is arguably at an all-time low here in the United States, as nearly every station has abandoned the old tradition of playing the National Anthem. I have found many fascinating versions of the anthem over the years, my personal favorite being Mort Garson's 'Moog S.S.B.' arrangement. There is something strangely captivating about the old sign-offs; listening to the staff announcers active in the 1970s and 1980s, their elocution outdoes even today's best by leaps and bounds. Seeing the films that many stations would sign off with, seeing imagery that truly honors our great nation, I feel in my heart that not only television but the world at large had more class back in those days. Even the promos and ads had more class. We went from class, to shock value, to sanitization. Most of what I see and hear on TV now is not impressive nor offensive. It's just dull. If it wasn't for PBS, I would have literally no reason to have a TV. These old sign-offs are but one interest of many I would like to keep exploring, but right before bed seems to be the worst possible time to do so.