The new schedule seems to be working, for the most part. There’s only one area where I have any complaints: I hit a point at night where I just shut off.
Monday night, I was in bed promptly at 9pm. Steph didn’t realize that my feeble mutterings of “I think it’s bed time” meant that I was actually heading that way, but I was going while I still had the energy to drag myself up the stairs.
Tuesday night I was able to stay up until 10, but that was because I’d gotten my toys from Newegg and had a slight adrenaline reserve.
Last night, we finished up the book we’ve been reading with the kids (The Blue Sword by Robin McKinley) a chapter each night and the kids went off to bed. That’s the last thing I really remember. I have vague impressions of Steph shaking me and yelling at me, and an even more vague impression of having blankets put over me, and then I woke up on the couch at 4:45am. Normally, sleeping overnight on the couch is a recipe for muscle pains, kinked spine, and impending migraine — let alone not feeling rested. But I feel great and ready to go, and I woke up without an alarm clock.