I’ll be drinking all the coffee my stomach can handle today. I’m SO tired, and it’s all Riley’s fault. He woke up at 3:30 this morning and wouldn’t settle back down, so John kicked him out (it was his turn). The damage was already done, though – both of us had checked the time. It’s hard to go back to sleep when your brain is chanting, “The alarm will go off in an hour and fifteen minutes. The alarm will go off in an hour and ten minutes. The alarm will go off in an hour.” (It’s Tuesday – John has a boxing class at 5:30, so we wake up at 4:45.) I did manage to go back to sleep (and to start snoring, judging by the oh-so-gentle nudging I got from John), but I dreamed of waking up the whole time. I kept dreaming that the alarm was going off and I was getting up. In one dream, I got up at 4:15 and started getting ready, then realized it was 4:15 and went back to bed. That didn’t actually happen (I think). Then when the alarm finally did go off, my eyes were cemented shut. It was horrible, and all I wanted to do was go back to sleep. I’m going to a Moulin Rouge sing-along at a local movie theater with some friends tonight – I’ve been looking forward to it, but I was seriously considering backing out this morning so I wouldn’t have as many hours between right then and my next chance to sleep. We already rearrange our lives with our sleep schedule in mind (early mornings mean early bedtimes mean early dinners and son on) – I shouldn’t be canceling social plans, too. I’m the idiot for agreeing to go out on a school night, but come on – it’s a Moulin Rouge sing-along! So I’m going. But I’m about to have a third cup of coffee (or, as my coworkers like to call it, cream and sugar with coffee).