I stayed up far too late last night watching a movie with my husband. I wasn’t going to watch it—it was something he requested from the library—but it was kind of interesting, and we always do like to sit in the same place at the same time, even without a good reason. So. I stayed up far too late.

And then, oddly, the kids still wanted me to get up and make breakfast this morning. Go figure!

I kept snacking all day in the hopes that this would somehow make me less tired. I think I ate four peaches in a row before I realized that: 1.) I wasn’t hungry, and 2.) Fresh fruit, while tasty, is unlikely to possess secret powers of wakefulness.

I did not think to hunt through the cabinets for chocolate-covered espresso beans—which I’m pretty sure we have—or even to brew a cup of caffeinated tea. Because that might have made sense. Instead I stuck with the fruit. Also crackers. I ate some crackers. And now I’m contemplating the blackberry ice cream in the freezer. Even though the kids are all asleep and I could just go to bed.

I never claimed to be logical.