7:44 and Ready to Go

Since Tasmania, I've had this terrible inability to sleep past 6:15 am. This never used to be a problem...

I first and foremost blame the rooster--Colonel Parker woke me up without fail around 4:30 each morning with his cockle-doodle-doo nonsense. How is an already slightly circadian-challenged human ever supposed to recover from that?

Of course, now my poor body has decided that I need to go to bed around 9:30 pm in order to compensate. This means that while many of the friends I've made call me to make plans or invite me out, I'm already out like a nine-year-old allowed to stay up an hour past bedtime because it's not a school night.

But I am determined. Having spent almost a week already with the Suttle family, I can say that, at the very least, I am trying to force some sort of 12-8 sleeping schedule. Last night, almost made it to midnight (11:43 pm, to be exact) until I passed out while watching the love scene in Titanic. Clearly Leonardo DiCaprio just doesn't do it for me anymore because I was out as quick as a pouncing crocodile (and they are frighteningly quick).

This morning I woke up at precisely 7:44 am. While this puts me at the doctor's prescribed "8 hours," I will nevertheless continue to push myself.

I know, you're all sitting on the edge of your seats, wondering if I'll make it (no promises here...). I'll keep you posted.