I stopped at Mr. Goodcents and picked up sandwiches last night on the way home; I put Bob's away for him for when he got home at 11:00 or so, and I ate mine, emptied a bag of candy into a bowl, fed the cats, changed my clothes, and sat down to read for awhile. I started getting sleepy -- man, it's been a long week -- and decided that since we hardly ever get any trick-or-treaters anymore anyway, that I just wasn't going to worry about it.
Our porch light is on a motion sensor, so the house was dark, and would stay dark unless someone walked up to the door, so I figured I was safe. I pulled the blinds down and went up to bed at about 9:30. I was asleep in seconds, I think. Bob called at some point; I vaguely remember talking to him, but not in detail. I went back to sleep, and he came home and I woke up again, briefly, but went right back to sleep.
This morning when the alarm went off, I didn't want to get up, though. Bob said, you should have gotten enough sleep, you got, what? Twelve hours? And I said no, only ten! Sometimes no matter how much it is, it isn't enough.
