Since starting my new job, I sleep like a dead donkey. Seriously. Nothing can rouse me. Except a small child calling "Mama, mama." Nothing can raise me! Nothing.
An old flatmate used to go out late and come home early the next morning. Like 6am early. An Irish friend of hers taught her the adage, "I'll sleep when I'm dead."
Alas, I am not of that ilk. If I was out on the turps and caught sight of the time, and it happened to be beyond one or two in the AM, I was outta there - I was like Cinderella. I hated the thought of messing up the day ahead and being Crankelstiltskin because I hadn't had enough beauty sleep.
I love me some sleepytime.
