I remember sleep. I've battled insomnia for the last few years. Welcome to mid-40s, I suppose. But it's easily treated with medication, caffeine avoidance, and a good routine at night.
Except that my body seems to have rejected that all out of hand, which obviously correlates to the rapidly-approaching abandonment of our hard-earned stability. No, neither of us are stressing. At least not on the outside. And not, as far as either of us will admit, even in our conscious thoughts. We've got this. Even if it's a dismal failure, we're not going to wind up on the streets, or living in a van down by the river. We know this. Too bad no one told our subconscious.
Last night, I slept pretty well from 11:30p - 12:30a. Then I was wide awake and started reading until around four in the morning, when I though I might doze off for a while. No such luck. So here I am, a little bleary-eyed, a little drunk, and a little happy at the proceeds of our first Bye 'n Buy party, where our local Phoenix friends relieved us of some stuff and left some cool cash in our hands to further our adventure.
Next up: Pizza. Then a movie. Then we'll try the sleeping thing again. Wish me luck.