No All-Nighters For Me

I am a lightweight and a mess. Last night I got home just before two from driving Carter and her friend to the concert in Charlotte. I had drunk enough coffee to keep an army awake so even though it was hours past my regular bedtime it took me until three in the morning to wind down and actually go to sleep.

Fast forward four short hours and my alarm was gonging its Big Ben tone and it was time to wake the girls for school. After dropping them off I went to my regular appointment with my trainer and home to walk. I could have gone back to bed I was so wiped out, but I soldiered on to two appointments and picked Carter back up from school.

At five in the afternoon I could take it no longer and I passed out on my bed, reading glasses perched on my nose, every light in the room on. If it weren’t for the phone ringing I would still be asleep, but two hours after I passed out I got up to write.

I am more of a dishrag now than I was before my unplanned nap. I don’t know how Carter went to school, turned in a paper, took a quiz and attended classes without a complaint. She made herself dinner, did her homework, fed the fish she is caring for at a neighbor’s house and when she saw me awake told me to go back to bed. I’m now the lightweight. The roles have been reversed.

Back to bed I go. Certainly I will recover after one full night of extra long sleep. I did not even go to the concert. I did not stand screaming at two different boy bands for six hours. I just drove the car. Old age has set in.