The Man and I are pretty much nightowls. Because I work from home, and he does much of his work from home as well, we are often up late, sitting next to each other, working on our laptops. Note: this is not romantic.
One thing that completely infuriates me is The Man's tendency to fall asleep at his laptop. Whether he's at a desk or the kitchen table, on the couch or on the bed, I will look over at him, and there he'll be, head lolling onto his chest, dead asleep. It drives me crazy. If he has a deadline to meet, I spend the night elbowing him viciously in an attempt to rouse him.
I've always been a little superior about this. I often say to him "You should be more in touch with your body. There's no way I would fall asleep at my computer, because I recognize when I'm about to fall asleep, and I know that's when I should turn off the machine and go to bed."
Of course, that was before last night. I'm about to leave town, you see, and before I go I need to finish a large number of assignments. In a desperate attempt to get more done last night, even though I was worn out from attending a child's birthday party in three million degree heat, I attempted to push past my own sleepiness and get one more blog done.
It was when I typed a sentence that suggested "teaching children about charitable giving through scrap-booking" that I realized it was over.
(Slowly backs away from the keyboard...)