No surprise here that last night was a pretty crap night. I fell asleep a little after 11, only to be startled out of bed by our bawab calling on the interphone to say J had forgotten his scooter outside. I was so sleep fuddled that I didn't know where J was--he was in bed--and told the bawab that I had no idea when he'd be home.

Then Junebug woke up at 2:15, then 3:30, maybe because of the vaccination he got yesterday. At 5:15, I could have sworn I heard someone ringing our doorbell. I checked, but no one was there. I fed the cats and stumbled back to bed.

5:45 and my eyes popped open, my brain saying, Hey, aren't you supposed to be writing?

I told the brain to shut up and go back to sleep because Junebug didn't need me yet. The brain started thinking story, though, so I got of bed and had my best writing morning yet.

Everyone slept in, and I was able to finish up the chapter. Well, finished all of it but one page before the peace was no more (completed it a little bit later).  I don't know that rising early has become routine for me, but my body seems to be helping the brain in making it happen.