Today, I worked a 12 hour daycare day. Which if I had a normal job, would be even longer. 12 hours of children who are not your own, makes for a VERY long day. The problem was not the long day. Nor the 4 million people who kept showing up. Or the freezing temperatures after a week of 70 degree weather. The problem wasn't even with the fact that I had to get out of bed at 445. No, the problem is worse (and a much funnier blond moment) than that. Paulo set the alarm for 445. So I can get up, get dressed, and go downstairs and lay on the couch until the 520 daycare kid showed up. There was no problem, I got up, got dressed, went down and slept on the couch. Like I do every time that I have to start work at 520. I fell asleep for what felt like a long time. I woke up, and thought, Man, they must have overslept (again..). I went back to sleep, for what felt like ANOTHER really long time, and woke up to still no daycare kid. This happened probably two more times, before I was awakened by not the knock at the door, but by the sound of my ALARM going off upstairs. It was just then 445. I still had half an hour before the daycare kid got there. What time did I actually get up?! I was exhausted all day, because of this, I didn't sleep well at all. So here I am, still awake (because I napped at 730 tonight) I'm completely boggled. I would have sworn it was the alarm that woke me up. And even so, why didn't I look at the bedside clock before I went downstairs? Or even, gotten my lazy arse off the couch and gone into the kitchen to check the time? (I have no clock in the living room, except my cell phone, which was dead.) ***************************************** On a side note, the Big Z is going to start preschool. With Ms Holly, so that I don't kill her. (Big Z, not Ms Holly!) We love Ms Holly! Even if this does mean I have to start doing her hair before lunch time...gah!