Caffiene-nation

There has never been a time in my life that I could have been described as a good sleeper. My mother is never at a loss for a tale from my youth, from infancy to the teenage years that addresses my difficult relationship with sleep. Whether it was her walking a mile loop from the kitchen to the sun porch and back only to be met with my head popping up from the coach just when she thought I had finally settled down, or her horror at realizing that nights spent at her mother's house meant that I saw the late show, the late late show AND the million dollar movie after mom-mom had finally pooped out because the chair that I would sit in was big enough to obscure the fact that I was sitting in front of the TV rather than laying in bed...the bottom line is that neither authority figures nor the rising moon have EVER been able to dictate when I'm going to sleep.

Things are no different these days, really. Except, of course that I'm now working full-time, taking nine credits a semester and attempting to maintain a household. This is to say that these days, I not only need to be awake, I need to be fairly high-functioning for most of those hours. Enter my super strong iced coffee. Although I may be cursing it when I'm still tossing and turning tonight, I wouldn't have made it this far without it.