<a href="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/03/P3240001.jpg"><img class="alignleft size-medium wp-image-4783" title="OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA" src="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/03/P3240001-300x225.jpg" alt="" width="300" height="225" /></a>There are people amongst us who go to bed at 9 p.m.

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I have always marveled at these strange people.   I seem to catch a 2nd, 3rd, and 4th wind after dinner.  I can't imagine being able to physically fall asleep at 9 p.m.

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When I was self-employed for most of my working career, I could stay up late with no issue.  Now that I am not as flexible with my own hours, I need to get to bed at a decent time.  This usually translates to somewhere around 10:30 which translates to never sleeping 8 hours on a week night which translates to dragging through my afternoons.

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This week in particular, I was <em>exhausted</em>.

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First of all, I am nearly half-way through my <a href="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/365-or-bust/" target="_blank"><strong>365 project</strong></a>.  Everyone's first question when they hear about the project is, "HOW can you keep up with that?"

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I'm not sure how, but I do.  And sometimes I get really, <em>really </em>tired.

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<span style="font-size: medium; color: #008000;"><strong>Secondly,  I stayed up late a few evenings this week with Mr. Tall Drink of Water.  I can't think of a better reason for feeling tired the next day, but...</strong></span>

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On Day 179, I was so bone-numbingly tired, that I arrived home from work and realized that I forgot (and then quickly remembered, thankfully), to live my "blog day".  In fact, I had no recollection whatsoever as to what soul-scintillating activity I was to "live" on this day.

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I ran to my Franklin-Covey planner in a panic.  (Yes, I still have one, and I'm holding on to it for dear life.)

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My entry for the day was actually something quite easy which I could have injected into my evening routine for a bit of inspiration of fun.  However, I decided to reschedule for next week and substitute the day's activity with <span style="font-size: medium; color: #800080;"><strong>The Earliest Bedtime of My Life.</strong></span>

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<span style="font-size: medium; color: #008000;"><strong>When I am so worn out that I'm losing track of the important stuff, nothing could be more soul-scintillating than a drastic sleep intervention.</strong></span>

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I told myself that I would turn in at 8:30.  After washing my face, brushing &amp; flossing, applying various lotions &amp; potions, and reading, I would magically fade off into la-la-land at 9 p.m.

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Hahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!

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It was a nice thought.

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<span style="font-size: medium; color: #008000;"><strong>Real life: </strong></span> I wrote my <strong><a href="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2011/03/25/day-178-best-birthday-cake-ever/" target="_blank">Smitten Kitchen Best Birthday Cake Ever blog post</a></strong><a href="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2011/03/25/day-178-best-birthday-cake-ever/" target="_blank"> </a>until 8:15 p.m.  I worried that I would make many mistakes due to sleep deprivation.  (My Dad always proofs for me the next morning.  Thanks, Da!)

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I then needed to unload my dishwasher and stack with newly dirty dishes.  Entering my 3rd wind, I took a Zyrtec at 8:30 p.m. in an effort to make me extra sleepy by 9 p.m.  I continued to clean and figured that I'd cut out the bedtime story in the interest of time.

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<span style="font-size: medium; color: #008000;"><strong>Little Miss B entered the kitchen at 8:45 p.m. and decided to scarf down her uneaten bowl of dog food made with human grade ingredients.</strong></span>

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Why she is such a fussy eater when I buy her only the best, I will never know.  Why she can't eat like a normal pooch when it's plopped down in front of her at 6:30 p.m., I will never know.  She chooses to snub her food and then caves in at bedtime.  Which means, of course, that she'll now have to poop.  In 20 minutes or so.  Greaaaaat.

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At 8:55 p.m., I took Little Miss B out to poop.  Nothing except another Great Cricket Hunting Adventure.  Greaaaaaat.

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I forced myself to wrap up my day and retired to my bedroom at 9 p.m.  I really, really, <em>really</em> wanted to watch Top Chef (DVR'd from the night prior), but I didn't.

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I skipped flossing to save more time.  I just had my teeth cleaned two days prior, so I'm allowed to cheat, right, <strong><a href="http://www.studiobsmiles.com" target="_blank">Dr. B</a></strong>?

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Little Miss B caught a 4th wind and proceeded to squeak every toy in sight.  I hid the toys outside of the bedroom and settled in a for long spring nap.

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Zyrtec rocks.  I started to feel mega sleepy about 4 pages into my book.

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I tucked Bella into her dog bed and shut off the lights.

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I was asleep circa 9:30.

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I dreamed that I was directing a children's play, and I needed to be home early so that I could be asleep at 9 p.m.

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<span style="font-size: medium; color: #008000;"><strong>I slept for 9 hours.  9 HOURS!  On a week night!!!</strong></span>

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At work, I was able to tackle 4 large proposals in a single bound.  I had energy to spare.

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What a difference an hour or two makes!

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Maybe those 9 p.m. bedtimers who walk amongst us aren't so strange after all.  Perhaps they are the other "s" word:  Smart.

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