Ever since daylight saving time ended, my body has thought 5-6 am is an excellent time to be awake and 9 pm is the perfect time to fall asleep. Every night, my brain argues that I should at least stay awake long enough to put the kids to bed, but my eyes often decide it's time to close up shop as soon as I can find a seat. Every morning, my body can't find a comfortable position, and although my brain says that the sun is nowhere near the horizon, the body wins. I soon find myself shivering in a cold kitchen, fumbling with a kettle and deciding which chores I can quietly complete next.
Last night was Saturday, and although many of my peers found an excuse for a post-Thanksgiving party, I was asleep halfway through an episode of Horrible Histories with my kids. I attempted to stay awake long enough to find out if Boudica would be making an appearance, but once again my eyes preferred their own lids over anything else.
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