There seems to be some sort of localized conspiracy taking place around me. The aim is to keep me awake as much as possible at night so that I am dog-tired the next day. Perhaps dog-tired is the wrong cliche, given that our dog Maggie (a golden retriever) seems to be the one keeping us up at night lately.
We’ve had a ton of rain in Seattle this month, and Maggie gets scared when the rain gets intense and the wind howls outside. Last week she insisted on coming into our room at 3 AM and sleeping on the bed several times. This week (once again at 3 AM) she started whimpering and it was clear that she wanted a walk. So I dragged myself out of bed, got my sandals on and gave her the walk she needed. I was back in bed by 3:20, but that was the end of my night as far as sleep was concerned. I am almost always good on 5 hours (midnight to 5 AM, 6 days per week) but 3 hours just doesn’t do it for me.
Sad to say, today’s Blaugh is way too accurate:
The other co-conspirators are my kids, who are way more social than I ever was at their age, and who are either out driving on their own or need to be picked up from the far corners of Redmond or Sammamish sometime after 11:30 at night.