...people who are not me.
But seriously. I slept fewer than three hours last night.
And it's because of this vicious cycle of my life (which is a good life, so please note the frustrated levity).
By the time I get off work on Fridays, I'm just done for the week. I stay up late doing non-work stuff, trying to cram in some work-life balance or something. And then I sleep late on Saturdays, so my whole day is off kilter: stay up late and get up late Sunday.
And I cannot resist walking on the weekends. Sometimes. This Sunday was one of those times. Pic opted to stay home with Nana, so I had a solo-ish walk (I called C and talked to him for an hour as I walked).
By the time I started my Sunday workday, it was 2:45 in the afternoon. I worked for eleven hours and took an hour off halfway through to eat dinner and read with Pic. So you can guess what that means about the time I went to bed. And I was up at 6:30 to get ready for work again.
Right now, all I can think about is finishing dinner and collapsing into bed for a nap before I do more work. (Yes, there are times I question my work choices and my work-habit choices, but I have to remember that I have time off coming up soon.)
It all boils down to this: I might have reached a point beyond tired right now. Check with me in fifteen minutes and we'll see if I'm even still awake.