Sunday night: That's what time I crawled in bed and said my final good-night.
Despite the fact that I've had two terrorism nightmares in the same week, when the option of an early bedtime came up in conversation, I grabbed hold of it and took action.
8:12 p.m. Same night. Cute blond child climbs in.
That's when my almost two-hour nap ended.
I had a feeling it might turn out that way, but the good news is that despite regular interruptions to my sleep pattern, I didn't actually get OUT of my bed (except to open the back of the toilet to fix the running water problem that only malfunctions when I'm in bed and no one else is around to hear it) until 5:15 a.m. I call that almost ELEVEN hours of very good.
Bring on Monday.