Friday night saw us enjoying fish and fries (because crinkle-fries cannot be called chips) and a few bottles of wine with good friends. We giggled and watched a favorite TV series on Netflix into the night, later than I am accustomed. Therefore I got less sleep than normal, and woke up Saturday morning very disoriented, indeed.

The alarm went off, as it does every day, and I tried to figure out the noise, hit the snooze button, and rolled over to grab my pillow and drag it back under my head. In my befuddled state, I looked across the bed and located said pillow. I reached for the pillow. I smacked Nick in the face. Twice. The pillow was where it always is, directly under my face. Great.  Nick didn’t remember very well, once he’d awoken as well.  So that’s good.

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