I Originally Published this Without a Title Because I Couldn't Think of One and I Still Can't so this IS the Title

A. got home somewhat late last night after spending some time fishing and then cleaning the pickerel he caught, so we didn't actually get to sleep until after ten.

And then Cubby woke up at five this morning, extremely unhappy about something. I suspect it was those always-convenient-scapegoats, The Emerging Teeth. Whatever it was, he was definitely not sleeping, and in fact didn't want to do anything except snuffle and cry pathetically on my shoulder. He did this for almost an hour, and then fell asleep on my shoulder in bed with A. and me for another hour, awaking around seven, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and ready to head downstairs to throw some toys around.

After only seven hours or so of sleep, I was feeling distinctly less bright-eyed, definitely not bushy-tailed, and wondering how the hell I managed when Cubby was a wee one and sleeping more than four hours at a time was unheard of.

I suspect I just felt like shit all the time, but because I felt like that all the time, it seemed normal. But now that I don't feel like that all the time, I notice when I feel like shit. Bummer.

Maybe I should have just continued waking up every few hours. Then I wouldn't notice how awful I feel today. I would also get a lot more done. I don't think that's going to be my new schedule, however.

Have a lovely day, duckies. Here's hoping tonight features more sleep.