Despite being dead on my feet by 9 pm last night, I went on to toss and turn, creating a new nocturnal yoga routine I am not recommending if you need to, I don't know, function the next day.
(See exhibit A, the matrimilton: Elephant pajamas, check! Moaning & groaning, check!)
I felt resourceful when I woke from a fanciful dream around four, and thought: Well, at least I know what my post will be about today.
And can I remember my dream now and that brilliant post? Nah.
There were dancing, singing pets and you were there. And you. And you. It might have been equal parts Beverly Hills Chihuahua and The Wizard of Oz.
We'll never know, but I'm banking on a strong cup of coffee to get me through my date with a mounting pile of laundry.