Sleep

I love sleep. It is very important to me. In fact, I think it's too important to me. I used to be able to hop right up at the sound of my alarm in the mornings. While I would grumble while doing so, I would still make myself get up. Now, however, I hit the snooze button repeatedly and do not relish waking up one tiny bit. I force myself to get up, take a shower, and join the masses at school. But whenever I get a chance to nap again in the afternoon, it thrills my soul.

...So when someone decides to come into the nursery at BTP, and wake me up from my blessed, wonderful nap for some stupid, vapid, insignificant reason, it makes me want to commit some sort of murderous act. Of course, that is partly my sleepy brain. But really....really?! The nursery at BTP is meant for sleepers and/or women and children, and must be maintained as such. I've been feeling more and more that way, especially since Kim is soon to have a baby and will be nursing in there. And Nancy still has 3 year old Emma. And the girls in our meeting would love to have a place of refuge. So why do the guys tromp through there like there's no tomorrow?

Oy vey.