Wednesday, August 22, 2007
After putting Mr. poopy pants to bed at 8:00, I seriously considered going to bed myself. In fact, the only thing stopping me was knowing how lame I'd seem. What is it about going to bed early that makes you 1.) old and 2.) a dork? So what? I crave a full eight hours of sleeping bliss. I wake up most mornings trying to figure out when I'll be able to return to that pillow I'm being so rudely torn from. I love sleep! Given my profession, I used to be concerned that it was a sign I was depressed. I don't think that's it. Not that I'm never depressed, but I really think I just enjoy sleep. I love the warm welcome my bed gives me when I crawl in at night...and don't even get me started on fresh sheets or my nemesis the alarm! So, in order to spend quality time with my night owl husband and maintain appearances, I kept sleep at bay...but it's calling and I'm going to answer, because after all, it is after 9:00.
at 9:08 PM