Something wonderful happened last month.
Something which hadn't ever happened to me before, as far as I could remember.
Something that will make some people squirm with jealousy, others roll their eyes and shrug with indifference, and a select few weep at the thought of this luxury just beyond their reach.
Here it is, my wicked, delicious truth:
For a whole week, I slept for 8 hours every night.
I don't know how it happened. It wasn't on purpose, and I hadn't made any special arrangements. Obviously, Mr Maggie May and I always aim to get to bed early so we can have that textbook amount of sleep during the week, but despite our good intentions, it never actually happens.
But it did happen. It just happened. And I could not believe how much of an effect it had on me.