Me an’ the Alarm Clock

We’re not particularly friends. Usually it’s being bossy, kicking me out of bed in the middle of a dream about WhoKnowsWhat, telling me to take a shower and dress up and head to work. And then the other alarm clock goes off, expecting the Mr to get up, get dressed, and feed cows, but all it really does is piss *me* off. ‘LOOOOOOOVEEEE! Get UP!’ One day I tucked him back in and he didn’t get up till almost 10. We like our sleep.

But today, maybe because I’ve been sleeping better, we can be friends. Or maybe because I can get along with his ‘Sick and Tired’ alarm at 7 better than my ‘Low’ and ‘Whatever You Like’ and Gaga at 6… (Hiphop wakes me up, since it is, much less pleasant to listen to.) I hope it’s the amount of sleep. I hope I’m sleeping more, and better.

I take it as a sign I’m growing up that I think more about sleep. I’m realizing just how much more I can get done in a day if I get up early. I actually count from the time now and figure out how much sleep I’m going to get. I think the answer to more sleep is going to bed early… The other half thinks it’s naps. #newlywedproblems

Maybe it’s my renewed interest in fitness that makes me think about sleep. It’s kind of a big deal.

Speaking of big deals of fitness…


There’s no turning back now. 13 in 13 or Bust!!


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