Gloom and doom

The dog woke me at 2:30 this morning, barking her fool head off. And before I continue, I should note that the only thing in my life that ever fills my head with your common every day expletives, is that DOG! I ran down stairs in my robe and threw her in the garage, getting wet grass on my cold, bare feet that cost me some time removing before climbing back in the bed. Seth was up an hour later, just as I finally drifted off to sleep, because he has a raging poison oak thing going. He got up and bumped around, and coated himself with some expensive dermatologist-recommended cream, and I managed to reach dreamland again about twenty minutes before time to get up for seminary.

It was my turn to get up, so up I got, very groggily and grumpily. I remarked to Matt after everyone was off to school that come April, I will be just that sleepy every morning. We were doomed, I said. He remonstrated that we weren't doomed. He's right, of course--it is a blessing, not a curse, that will visit our family in a few short months. But sleep-deprived ladies feel doomed when they consider a future of prolonged sleep deprivation. And said sleep deprivation looms much more ominously at 40 than it did a few years back.