Once more this morning he wakes up and cuddles me, and I cuddle back for aboout half a minute before I try to get back to sleep. This morning for once he obliges me; that was 8 o'clock and now it's ten. A cappucino at the cafe down the street from our new house (!) at four in the afternoon yesterday left me wired until far past my usual bedtime. Still: asleep at 12:30 still gives me nine and a half hours last night. And that's, I think, a little under the mean since I've been here.

And yet: he's gone through an inhaler for the cough, nasal spray for the nose, antibiotics for the ear infection, sudafed for the stuffy head (plus andrographis, propolis and massive infusions of mint tea just in case) and I haven't gotten sick yet. I've been having the dreams I have when I'm really exhausted, dreams where I'm trying to go to sleep in my dream, and when he wakes me at eight it is almost painful. The upside of being unemployed is that I can indulge my body in this for now - if I get the job I want (and the interview went great, but I won't know till next week), I'll be making a forty-minute commute to be at work by 7:30. That is the opposite of sleeping in.