Thursday night was six hours.
Friday night was roughly eight, after burning every single calorie that I had consumed in the last week at the dance where I did not stop moving for nearly four hours.
Saturday night was three hours.
Last night, seven and one half hours.
If I'm going to bed at eight o'clock every night... like actually going to sleep... you KNOW there MUST be something wrong.
But if I'm staying up till ten, eleven, twelve o'clock... on school nights... you know that someone somewhere has got to be doing something right because I am HAPPY.
What does this tell you? Someone, somewhere is doing something right. Because I'm losing sleep.
and it's absolutely splendid.
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