Not a bad one...a great one. One of those nights where I accomplish some of the more unreachable goals I have a habit of setting for myself while also not feeling miserable in the process. I ran for 4.5 miles, and even though my legs felt rebellious most of the run, I made it through and finished feeling great. Watched an episode of Modern Family with my husband, then showered and now here I am, back on the couch with a cup of peppermint tea, wearing slippers and a sweater, fully prepared to come up with some good conflict in my book while my family sleeps. Why the hell did it take me this long to start staying up later than everyone else?
Last night I was able to keep my eyes open until just before midnight. I used that time to get roughly 13 chapters outlined (you know, two sentences per 'chapter' representing over 2,000 words each, so I'm expecting some deviation when I actually go to write the thing). I then finished reading The Goldfinch. I had a mini mental celebration afterward, then drifted off to sleep without even a hint of insomniacal (I'm sad that's not a real word) thought.
Chocolate chips cookies and peppermint tea go surprisingly well together. Like a mild peppermint patty flavor.
Alright, I'm already tired...time to get something accomplished with the book idea.
Then on to reading Unbroken. I don't think this staying up late thing is going to be difficult to turn into a habit.
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