I must be insane. Certifiably, undeniably insane. It's 7:12 a.m. on a Saturday, and I'm sitting at the dining table, checking e-mails and listening to Denali bark in Mark's face because the lazy bum is still in bed.
I wish I could say that I'm up to go exercise ... I' not ... but I am going to blame exercise. The mornings of getting up by 6:15 so I can get in my run and/or other fitness-related endeavors before I go to work at 10 - they have seriously messed with my sleeping schedule. I was awake at 5:10 a.m. to use the ladies room and up-up at 6:45. On a Saturday.
I tried to curtail the situation. I stayed up late (for me), watching "House Hunters" and putting away laundry. Mark and I even watched part of "se7en," which was sure to give me nightmares and keep me up till the wee hours of the morning and allowing me to sleep till, oh you know, 8. Nope. I quickly fell asleep, my head filled with dreams about driving from the backseat of a car and the car transforming from a Buick into a sporty red car. I had to wear a helmet for that ride and thank goodness I remembered how to drive a manual.
The wonders of the brain.