But not that way.
Today, among my other responsibilities, I had to make a pitch about why I should move forward in the promotion process. As a result, I stayed up later than I'd have liked last night, given that I also had to be at the fitness center at 6:00 am to lead a class.
Naturally, going to bed wasn't bad enough--at 1:15, the dog woke me because she needed to go out. I fumbled my way into some clothes and stumbled my way the the door, then slid squishily the last foot or so to her leash. Wait. Slid squishily? Yeah, that's right--the dog had already pooped on the floor, and I stepped right into it or, anyway, slid right through it, smearing it just so.
I love this dog, but she almost didn't live to see daybreak. I did take her out, I didn't LEAVE her out as I was tempted to do, and I made some bleary effort to clean it up. Actually, I wasn't nearly as bleary as I'd have like to have been--stepping in dog crap does tend to wake you up.
An hour later, our daughter, from her cot next to our bed, woke up wailing. She had a bad dream, she was wet... let's just say she probably couldn't have been more upset if she'd been the one running into dog doo. Lauren, knowing it would take a while to settle her and that I had to be up early, so she suggested I might be happier in the other bedroom.
Grabbing my pillow, phone, and water bottle, I made my way into that room. The bed lay covered in all sorts of things, so I lay my burdens down to sweep everything else off. It's a shame the water bottle wasn't shut all the way, as it spilled over an area including the middle and one side of the twin bed. So I huddled into a dry spot and did my best to ignore my child's cries from the next room. I do think I got back to sleep before Lauren, so that's something.
I'm going to bed earlier tonight, made sure the dog's been out, and I'll hope for the best.