Insomnia is a real thing. Fortunately I only experience this demon under three conditions:

evening before menses,

after extreme successes,

when my Husband is out of town.

This time was a lovely combination of all three; the first and third being obvious and the second being the tremendous success I had in finally completing the Last Task about 8p. The Last Task not being the enchiladas.

I read and visited with the youngest child. I tidied the kitchen. I enjoyed two vodkas in celebration of my success. I knitted by the fire. I took melatonin. I took valerian. I flipped through a catalog. I played sudoku. I took more melatonin. I took more valerian. It was still only 1034p. So I kept playing sudoku. Not well.

At this point all three dogs and one child were in the bed. In an effort to move a limb I reloaded the fire with wood.

Reaching for more melatonin and thinking about how a little snack at 2a would be delicious, I decided on a pretzel. I turned to the kitchen pantry and *ding*ding*ding* there in all its dimmed kitchen light glory was the nespresso machine gifted to us Christmas before last. And immediately I wanted coffee.

Grateful for our opportunities and my thriftiness, I slipped an espresso cup from its copper wire support still sticky from the yellow Maxx for the minimum clearance tag ($2 for the set of four, thank you very much), and added to it a dash of amaretto, filled it with a decaf ristretto from the gifted machine, and topped it with a wee splash of coffee liqueur. Coffee, liquor. Pretty damn dreamy at 2a on a Wednesday with a full day behind me and full day ahead of me.

So I took this photo in the event this experiment panned out. And I think it did. I do not recall the clock passing 221a. But then again, maybe it was the fresh 25F air breathed in when bringing in firewood. No less, I am grateful.