Good morning. Sun would make it gooder, but it'll be a while before we see the sun at 6:51 in the morning, or at 5:30 for that matter.
I completely jinxed myself. On Sunday night I went to bed and slept hard and heavy for nine hours. Nine hours! Young children and old people, that's who. But no, somehow I managed to pull it off. Nobody woke up, nobody threw up on themselves (there's been that since Thursday night), Steven's 5:30 alarm didn't even make its way into my dreams.
Of course I told everybody what an awesome night I had.
Never brag or take joy in that. Have silent, in-the-moment happiness, and forget about it. Just go about your day reaping the benefits of being well rested.
Or else the next night you'll still be laying there awake at two a.m., and then at 5:30 when your husband's alarm goes off it'll wake you up for the first time in the seven days he's been going to school.
Then you'll roll over and poutily use your phone to catch up on Words With Friends, because there's no way you should have to get out of bed at 5:30. You'll check Miss Lonelyhearts, only to remember that you already caught up on her at one o'clock, and eventually you'll roll out of bed and shower, blow dry and get dressed, and realize you're a madwoman for having done all that before you were supposed to be out of bed.
But will not feel sorry for self. Will drink enormous amounts of coffee.