11:30 p.m., chez Magnolia: As Mr Mag and Max drift into sleep, I build an awesome quilt-tent so that I can best utilize my Snuggie booklight.
Just as I'm good and settled, I notice that the pages skip from 184 to 249. After two weeks of obsessively reading all five Lauren Willig novels, I must put the bodice-ripping and swashbuckling aside, at least until my local bookstore opens tomorrow morning.
12:00 a.m. Mr Mag is fast asleep. Max hears something (real or imaginary) that leads him on a barking binge. Did I mention that Mr Mag has a wildly important, change-our-lives-as-we-know-them meeting tomorrow? I reluctantly grab a pillow, shut the bedroom door, and decide that his sleep is more important than my own. I quiet the dog, decide against the guestroom, and camp out on the couch.
12:30 a.m.: Catch up on blogs, Facebook and Twitter until my internet connection starts to waiver. So not worth de-Snuggie-ing myself to go reboot the router.
12:50 a.m.: Awake, bored, and more than a little annoyed with the dog. Wonder if anyone would notice if I popped open the bottle of Beaujolais Nouveau I bought for the weekend?
1 a.m.: Decide against the vino, but add a Kindle 2 to Amazon Wish List. Cannot, however, add young French reds or a visit from Cesar Millan to the Wish List. Stupid Amazon.
1:39 a.m.: Blog about the disaster and call it a night.
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