Trying to Roll Over.

I slapped the alarm clock a millisecond after some '80s rock song blared from its speakers, quickly enough to prevent the melody from being imprinted on my mind all day. The plan was to get up at 4:15AM and ride the trainer. I say was because it took about three seconds of careful deliberation before I decided to use the hour for attempted sleep instead.
 
I was occupying about 8 inches of the bed, with the remainder being dominated by the hell-spawn and my lovely wife. Any attempt to readjust my precarious position resulted in furious kicking and general disapproval from the child. I found a less-offensive orientation to all those concerned and tried to get back to sleep. Level of success achieved is debatable.
 
I'll climb on the bike this afternoon.
 
My wife is going on a scrapbooking retreat (mostly involves drinking) this weekend, so I may have a little more room in the bed. Hopefully this will lead to less eating.
 
According to a study that I heard about on NPR while driving to work the other day, endocannabinoids are why I'm so fat. In my current, sleep-deprived state, a big old plate of endocannabinoids slathered in gravy and bacon bits sounds delicious. I'll probably pee hot during my next random drug test (which will probably be this weekend), because I'm loaded with the suckers after the last couple weeks.
 
It's a vicious cycle., but one I'm trying to break.
 

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