I can't seem to get back to sleep. I drifted off around midnight and was awoken (though not enough to answer the phone) by a not-terribly-drunk dial from Walter. We're getting old now. The drunk dials aren't so drunken and instead of interrupting other drunken reveling, they interrupt sleep. I can't even call him back because he indicated that he was on his way to sleep. I sort of miss my mid twenties right now.
I blame my inability to sleep on the howling from downsttairs. Tonight it is coming from directly under my head. That must be the room where they put the poor devil at night. The irritating thing is that he started up almost immediately upon my turning out the light to sleep! The forty five minutes I'd been lying in bed reading prior? Silent. I hate that dog so very much.
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