I just got very excited about the prospect of waking up in ten hours, just so I can make hotdogs on really fluffy potato buns for lunch. It is this potential to cook the anuses and tongues of pigs, and not the four cocktails, late hour or the stress of Meeting The Boyfriend's Family tonight that makes me look forward to sleep.
Someday I will get my priorities in order. Maybe someday I will also actually unpack from a vacation the same week I return from it. In the meanwhile, I shall shove the stacks of shirts and skirts from my big kid bed and hurl myself towards sleep (sadly, alone).