The coffee at lunch was a mistake. At least the second (or was it third) cup certainly was, and I should know by now that I REALLY need to order de-caf. I can't taste the difference anyway, so why do I put myself through this? Some of us just never learn. If the kids were still home I'd have plenty of company since they never sleep anyway. The zombies stay up until what Uncle Jim used to charmingly call "sparrow fart" and I have no idea how they manage to maintain such good grades with the habits they have, but you can't argue with success.
This combination of exhaustion and hyper-activity is interesting. I listen to the hum of the fan and wonder why it's not as soporific as I usually find it. In fact, it's getting borderline annoying, but it's too warm to turn it off. So I'll sit up long enough for the little blue Tylenol to kick in and count my blessings, which are myriad. Meanwhile, "bon soir" from gay Paree....or is it "bon jour"?