#where i can completely exhaust myself

[tardis--dreams]

Gonna go running tomorrow!!!! Gotta hype myself up because i know once my alarm goes off at 6am i will not be as excited anymore ((((: BUT I'LL GO RUNNING!!!!

[figofswords]

anybody remember the stephanie brown essay I was working on under a research grant fully last summer? yeah it’s not done yet it super needs to be done and I’ve been avoiding working on it for weeks. someone tell me to just do it already

[iliveinprocrasti-nationn]

one thing abt being disabled/chronically ill that some people don’t get is that sometimes body maintenance that ensures you have the absolute minimum amount of function can also be something that takes away a lot of control and autonomy. you can argue till the cows come home that making those decisions to try and help yourself (or realistically to try to make sure things aren’t worse than they already are) is something that exhibits control and autonomy and stuff, but they can be so limiting in practice because they’re things that take up so much time but have to be done to do anything else

[widevibratobitch]

im so fucking mad at myself and my stupid fucking coping mechanisms and that it took me this fucking long to realise im a people pleaser and not only that but the most pathetic kind - the kind that doesnt *actually* manage to please anyone lol

[running-in-the-dark]

a super fun thing that my brain is really good at is hearing a random fact and remembering it forever. but only if it's bad :)

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[alorz]

VERY dramatic tags

[coyoteuugly]

i am so sick of feeling this immense guilt and having no hope for the future i am making a conscious effort to get better and create a life worth living for myself

[shyspider]

Howdy Shy! You had An Incident during the holidays??? Is everything okay? Are /you/ okay?

~Smooch

Oh no, it was nothing terribly serious - sorry if it came off like that. Super sorry.

It's just the usual with my extended family. They are exhausting to put up with, among other things that really get under my skin and push my boundaries.

But it's over. Holidays are done. I'm home where I can relax with a warm cup of let-go-of-that-bullshit tea and watch my dog play in the snow with reckless abandon.

[milo-is-rambling]

Oh okay I've now realized that my last group of friends has completely fucked my ability to form new close relationships or find myself worthy of interacting with people I perceive to be better than me (aka all people)

[pibsboots]

I've always had chronic fatigue. I remember being twelve, and an adult mentioned how I couldn't possibly know how tired they felt because adulthood brought levels of exhaustion I couldn't imagine. I thought about that for days in fear, because I couldn't remember the last time I didn't feel tired.

Eventually I came to terms with the fact that I was just tired, and I couldn't do as many things as everyone else. People called me lazy, and I knew that wasn't true, but there's only so many times you can say "I'm tired" before people think it's an excuse. I don't blame them. When a teenager does 20 hours of extracurriculars every week and only says "I'm too tired" when you ask them to do the dishes, it's natural to think it's an excuse. At some point, I started to think the same thing.

It didn't matter that I could barely sit up. It was probably all in my head, and if I really wanted to, I could do it.

When I learned the name for it, chronic fatigue, I thought wow, people that have that must be miserable, because I am always tired and I cannot imagine what it would feel like if it were worse.

Spoiler alert, if you've been tired for a decade, it's probably chronic fatigue.

Once I figured that out though, I thought of my energy as the same as everyone else's, just smaller in quantity. And that might be true for some people, but I've figured out recently that it absolutely isn't true for me.

I used to be like wow I have so much energy today I can do this whole list for sure! And then I'd do the dishes and have to lay down for 2 hours. Then I'd think I must gave misjudged that, I didn't have as much energy as I thought.

But the thing is - I did have enough energy for more tasks, I just didn't go about them properly.

With chronic fatigue, your maximum energy is obviously much smaller than the average person's. Doing the dishes for you might use up the same percentage of energy that it takes to do all the daily chores for someone else.

If someone without chronic fatigue was to do all the daily chores, they would take breaks. Because otherwise, they're sprinting a marathon for no reason and it would take way more energy than necessary. We have to do the same.

Put the cups in the dishwasher, take a break. Put the bowls in, take a break. So on and so forth. This may mean taking breaks every 2-5 minutes but afterwards, you get to not feel like you've run a marathon while carrying 4 people on your back.

Today, I had a moderate amount of energy. Under my old system of go till you drop, I probably could have done most of the dishes and wiped off the counter and then been dead to the world for the rest of the day.

Under the new system, I scooped litter boxes, cleaned out the fridge, took the trash out, cleaned the stove, and wiped off the counter and did all the dishes. And after all that, I still had it in me to make a simple dinner, unload the dishwasher, and tidy the kitchen.

It was complete and utter insanity. Just because I sat down whenever I felt myself getting more tired than I already was.

All this to say, take fucking breaks. It's time to unlearn the ceaseless productivity bullshit that capitalism has shoved down our throats. Its actively counterproductive. Just sit down. Drink some water. Rest your body when it needs to rest.

There will still be days where there is nothing to do but rest, and days where half a load of dishes is absolutely the most I can do. But this method has really helped me minimize those, which is so incredibly relieving.

[pinkhoneyhorror]

I just wish there wasn't always something bothering me... or more something I feel like I need to change to feel love towards myself or feel love from others. I always feel like I'm not good enough but it's because I don't just let myself be me for just a second. I'm too scared. The last time that happened I got my heart broken over and over and was left with nothing. I'm scared of losing everything just for myself. But I know I'm worth it, deep down. I just have to figure out how to do this.

[shittygothbitch]

Okay

[leejenowrld]

“cum all over daddy’s cock.”

word count — 2.5k

pairing — lee jeno x reader

synopsis — you ride your boyfriend, jeno’s, cock, using him for your own pleasure. you bounce and fuck yourself dumb on it until you crash out

warnings — explicit sexual content, explicit language and swearing, sexual themes, reader is a warrior!!, bouncing and fucking herself dumb on jeno’s cock, her thigh and core strength are next level, kinda dom!reader, she uses jeno and his cock for her own pleasure, taking control of the pace, big daddy themes, overuse of the words ‘daddy’ and ‘baby,’ jeno praising and guiding her, rough handling, and mutual exhaustion from going all out.

“Look at you… fuck, you’re fucking wild right now,” he growls, his voice low and almost in awe of how hard you’re going. “You want it so fucking bad, don’t you? Taking my cock like you were fucking made for it.”

──────────────────────────────

As you lower yourself onto Jeno’s cock, a sharp gasp escapes your lips, the stretch of him filling you completely in one slow, deliberate motion. The fullness makes your thighs tremble, and the effort of taking him so deep already has your body tensing. You take a moment, catching your breath, feeling him pulse inside you as your body adjusts to his size. He fills you perfectly, and you can’t help but bite your lip at the sensation.

“You’re so fucking tight,” Jeno groans, his voice rough with arousal, his hands gripping your waist just enough to guide you. Every inch of him presses against your walls, the feeling almost overwhelming. Your thighs quiver, but you hold yourself still, grinding slowly to savor the feeling. Small, deliberate movements—your hips rolling lazily against him to preserve your energy. You know you’ll need it later.

You lean forward slightly, hands planted on his chest for balance, your nails digging into his skin as you move in slow, teasing circles. “Fuck… you feel so good inside me,” you whisper, your breath coming out in soft, shaky gasps.

Jeno’s eyes are dark, locked onto yours, his lips parting as a deep groan escapes him. “God, keep going,” he growls, voice thick with need. His fingers press deeper into your waist, encouraging you, but you can feel your legs beginning to strain already. You slow down, your hips grinding against him with careful control, letting him feel every inch of your walls tightening around him.

Your head tilts back as the pleasure builds steadily, his cock stretching you just right with every slow roll of your hips. The friction, the heat—it’s all starting to build, but you know you can’t go too hard too fast. “I need to pace myself,” you murmur, biting your lip in frustration. You want to give him everything, but the burn in your thighs is already starting to make itself known.

Jeno smirks, his hands sliding up your back, pulling you closer as his hips start to shift beneath you. “I’ve got you,” he murmurs, his voice low and reassuring. His hips lift, thrusting up into you slowly, meeting your grind and making you gasp. The way he moves beneath you, matching your slow rhythm, sends sparks of pleasure through your body.

“Fuck, Jeno…” You moan, barely able to hold back. Each slow, deliberate thrust from him presses deep, dragging against your most sensitive spot. “You feel so good,” you whisper breathlessly, your fingers curling into his chest as you lean forward, your forehead resting against his.

“Yeah?” His voice is deeper now, more intense, and his hands grip your hips tighter. His thrusts become slower but harder, each one pushing deeper, filling you to the brim. “You feel how deep I am?” His voice is rough, his eyes locking with yours, daring you to answer.

“You feel me here?” Jeno growls, his hand pressing down firmly on the slight bulge in your lower belly, right where his cock is buried deep inside you. The sensation of him filling you completely, combined with the pressure of his hand, makes you whimper in response. He smirks, eyes locked on yours, knowing exactly how much control he has over your body. “Fuck, you’re so full of me,” he mutters, his voice thick with lust. “Daddy’s cock stretching you so good, isn’t it?”

You nod desperately, but it’s not enough for him. “Use your words, baby,” he demands, his grip tightening on your waist. His cock pulses inside you, and the way he’s looking at you—like he owns every part of you—sends a rush of heat through your entire body.

“Y-yes, Daddy,” you gasp, barely able to form the words, your breath coming out in ragged pants. “I can feel you so deep… so fucking deep.”

You can feel the pressure building in your core, the need to take things further, faster, more desperate. Your thighs are already burning, your body on fire from the way Jeno is filling you, but it’s not enough—you want more, and you’re determined to get it. Gritting your teeth, you start to move faster, grinding down on him with purpose, then shifting to bouncing on his cock with renewed intensity.

“Fuck… just like that,” Jeno groans, his eyes wide as he watches you take control. His hands grip your waist, his fingers digging into your skin, but he doesn’t try to stop you. He knows exactly what you’re doing, and he’s loving every second of it. “You gonna fuck yourself on my cock, baby? Huh? You gonna ride me until you come?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you moan, the words spilling out of you between gasps. The pace is brutal now—every time you drop down onto his cock, it’s like you can’t get enough. You bounce harder, faster, your whole body moving with reckless abandon as you chase your release. “I’m gonna fuck myself dumb on your cock, Jeno… fuck, I’m so close.”

His grip tightens, but he lets you ride him, lets you take what you need. “That’s it,” he growls, his voice thick with lust. “Take it, baby. Fuck yourself on my cock. Use me.”

Your thighs are trembling violently, your muscles screaming for relief, but you don’t stop. The need, the desperation, is driving you forward, and all you can think about is the way his cock feels inside you—how perfectly it stretches you, fills you up, hitting that perfect spot over and over again. You’re losing yourself to the pleasure, the pace so fast and rough that you’re barely coherent anymore.

“Jeno… fuck… Jeno!” You scream his name, your hands bracing against his chest for leverage as you ride him harder. The sound of skin slapping together fills the room, your body bouncing violently on his cock, each movement sending shockwaves of pleasure through you.

“Fuck, baby, you’re gonna break me,” Jeno groans, his voice strained. He can barely keep up with you, but he doesn’t care. His eyes are glued to you—the way your tits bounce with every thrust, the way your body is completely out of control, driven by nothing but pure lust. His hands move up your body, grabbing your breasts roughly, squeezing them as you ride him with reckless abandon.

He knows what you’re doing, he watched with pride at every desperate push you make to chase your own pleasure. His voice is hoarse, rough with arousal, as he watches you come fuck yourself dumb on top of him. “You look so hot like this,” he groans, his fingers digging into your waist as he lets you set the pace. “You’re so fucking hot when you ride me like that. You’re using me to get off, aren’t you?”

“Look at you… fuck, you’re fucking wild right now,” he growls, his voice low and almost in awe of how hard you’re going. “You want it so fucking bad, don’t you? Taking my cock like you were fucking made for it.”

His words fuel the fire inside you, pushing you above your limits, bouncing on him so violently that the bed shakes beneath you. The sound of your bodies slamming together fills the room, the wetness between your legs making everything even dirtier, even hotter. You can barely breathe, barely think, the pleasure taking over every part of you.

“Fuck, your tits are perfect,” he groans against your skin, his voice rough as his lips tug on your nipple. “I could suck on them all fucking day, baby.”

Your tits bounce wildly in front of his face, so he takes the opportunity to brush his thumbs over your hard nipples, teasing them before he leans forward, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth. The sensation of his tongue swirling around your nipple, the way he sucks hard, sends another wave of pleasure through you, and you nearly collapse on top of him. “God, you’re fucking perfect,” he growls, his voice strained as he tries to keep control. “Keep going, baby. Use me. Take what you need. I want to see you come all over me. I want to feel how fucking tight you get when you come.”

You’re going so hard, mixed with the pleasure of his mouth on your nipples, it makes your vision blur. The sensation of using him to chase your own release is overwhelming, sending shockwaves through your body. “Fuck, yes, suck my tits, Daddy,” you gasp, your voice shaking from the intensity.

He switches to the other nipple, sucking hard, flicking his tongue over the sensitive skin until you’re whimpering above him, your body trembling from the added pleasure. “That’s it… ride me, baby. Ride my cock. Don’t stop.”

“God, Jeno…” you gasp, your voice barely audible through the haze of pleasure, but he hears you.

Jeno growls against your skin, sucking harder on your nipple, his other hand kneading your other breast roughly. “You’re fucking perfect,” he mutters, his voice muffled as he devours your tits. His tongue flicks over your sensitive skin, his lips tugging at your nipple, making you moan uncontrollably. “These tits… fuck, they’re so perfect. Bouncing for me, baby. You like when I suck them?”

“Y-yes, Daddy,” you whimper, your movements becoming more frantic as the pleasure skyrockets. The way he’s sucking your nipples while you’re riding him is almost too much to handle. “Fuck, I’m so close… I’m so close…”

Your entire body is trembling, your thighs burning from the intensity, but the pleasure is too overwhelming to care. “Please, Jeno,” you beg, not even sure what you’re asking for at this point, your voice broken and needy. “Please, I don’t want to stop.”

“You’re not fucking stopping until you come all over my cock,” Jeno growls, his eyes dark and filled with lust. His hands grip your waist tighter, controlling your movements as he thrusts harder into you. “You feel that?” His voice is rough, his breath hot against your skin as he leans closer. “You’re gonna come for me, baby. I want to feel you fucking dripping for me.”

The roughness of his words sends a shockwave through your body, and you can barely hold on anymore. His cock is hitting so deep, each thrust dragging against that perfect spot inside you, sending your mind spiraling. “Fuck, baby, I’m so close,” you whimper, your voice barely a whisper.

That's all it takes. With a final, desperate bounce, the tension snaps, and you’re sent spiraling into the most intense orgasm of your life. Your entire body locks up, your walls clamping down around his cock as you scream his name. You ride him through it, your body convulsing uncontrollably as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you.

The wetness between your legs is already soaking him, but as you come, it feels like your entire body explodes. Your walls clamp down around his cock, squeezing him with pulsing, uncontrollable contractions. The heat spreads through your belly, radiating down your thighs as your body shakes. The slickness grows even more intense, the wet sounds between your bodies filling the room as you drench him, a mix of your release and his cock driving deeper into you with every thrust.

Your breath catches, your head spinning as your vision goes white for a second, the intensity of the orgasm hitting like a tidal wave. Your hips stutter, unable to maintain the same rhythm as your muscles tremble violently, your body clinging to him, shaking uncontrollably. The warm slickness dripping from you pools between your legs, coating him, making each thrust even wetter, more intense. Your skin glistens with sweat, your chest heaving as you come undone, completely lost in the sensation.

"That's it, baby," he growls, his voice full of satisfaction as he watches you fall apart in his hands.

"Come all over my cock. Let me feel it." Your mind is spinning, completely lost in the pleasure, and you can feel yourself dripping around him, your release coating his cock as he keeps thrusting into you. His hands never leave your body, guiding you through every moment of your orgasm, his voice low and filled with pride. "You're so fucking perfect like this," he murmurs, pressing kisses to your neck between deep, guttural moans. "So fucking tight for Daddy."

Jeno’s hands slide up your back, pulling you down against his chest as you both lie there, utterly fucked out, your bodies trembling from the intensity of it all. His lips find your neck, pressing soft kisses there as you come down from the high.

“Fuck… you… you fucked yourself dumb on my cock,” Jeno groans, his voice still full of lust even as his body relaxes. “You’re fucking incredible.”

“Mmm… we need to do that more.” You sigh.

Jeno chuckles softly, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your back as he holds you close. “You’re perfect,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple. “So fucking perfect.”

[corpsegold]

Typing that out has had me panicking and freaking out sweating for the past few hours. I've been miming to myself and rehearsing talking to the woman about it and the only way I can describe how overwhelming and intense this feels is that it's like when I came out to my mum. What the fuck does THAT say

[rubyvhs]

just let me — dean winchester

content / you start having nightmares and hide it from dean; he, of course, finds out.

authors notes / fills my song prompt ‘all to myself by dan + shay’ @jacklesversebingo + idea came from a beautiful anon, I loved writing this

You were, very obviously, not falling asleep for the past week at least. Dean tried to talk to you about it; he’s still trying, even when you’re both winding down in the ‘Dean Cave,’ but it’s a lost cause—you’re completely ignoring him when he mentions it. He understands wanting some level of privacy or not being in the mood to talk your feelings out, but he knows it's deeper than that, and it's killing him that you don’t trust him enough to tell him.

Killing him is an understatement, but he doesn't even know what to do anymore—you’re completely pulling away the second he mentions anything sleep related. So he’s taking a different route. You're a pretty independent person; you didn't want to move into the bunker until you were a hundred percent sure this was it. But you still spend some nights here. You haven't in a month though (count it as Red Flag Number Ten).

“Hey, baby,” he says as he shuts off the TV and packs up the snacks you were both having while watching the movie. You start to help him before he shakes his head, making you pause.  “Can you— uh, stay here? Tonight?”

You smile teasingly, looking up at him, “Mr. Winchester, are you asking me to have a sleepover with you?” You whisper, overexaggerating your words, and it earns you a soft laugh. Before you, Dean didn't have much reason to smile like he does now, he doesn't know what he’d do if you're no longer there with him, your usual teasing and happy self; which is exactly why he's trying to help you now.

“Shut up. Can you stay?”

“I don’t know, Dean.” You shrug, standing up as he does to bring the snack to the kitchen. You pull the door behind you after shutting off the lights. “I’m busy tomorrow, and it’s a long drive—”

“I’ll take you.”

“I wake up at six; we’ll have to get up at five to make it to my house in time.” You wonder out loud, though you’re fairly sure you could make it back to your house in less than thirty minutes if you try tomorrow, so you’re not scared to miss work or anything; you’re more so looking for a way to say no without it coming from you. 

You don’t want to upset Dean, but you’ve already noticed him asking if you’re okay often, so maybe it’s time to tell him.

Four weeks ago, you accidently drove to a warehouse where you encountered a few Vamps. You’re not a hunter like Dean is, and so, naturally, you run as fast as you freakin’ can, which only does as little as you can guess it does. Thankfully, the Winchesters were there already and came to your rescue. 

Ever since then, he insisted you stay in the bunker, but you’re nothing if not stubborn and decided you’re just fine. There’s no need for you to take up space here (even if you stay in it most of the time already and even if it’s so big that they wouldn’t even notice you moving in, let alone staying a couple of days). 

So you stayed at your house, and you’ve been having nightmares every single freakin’ night. It’s exhausting, and you’re so unrested that you’re distressed you’re missing chunks of your days. 

Selfishly, Dean is angry. He knows something is wrong; he’s sure it had to do with the vamps, yet you’re not talking to him about it. He thought when he asked you to be his, that meant: you’re his. You don’t need anyone else, he’ll help you through it; he’s been through it himself when he first found out about monsters. Granted, this is different (you knew about monsters just didn’t see them), but it’s similar enough that he can help you through it.

“C’mon.” He frowns, taking the plates from you while he talks. “Don’t be like that, you haven’t spent the night in a long time.” And it’s been driving him crazy. He slept just fine before you came along, then you had to ruin everything for him; now, he can’t even get a full five hours if he doesn’t hear your soft breaths in his arms. 

“Yeah, I’m busy, you’re busy—”

“Bullshit.”

“Fine, Dean, I’ll spend the night.” Unlike you thought, his frown deepens. He washes his hand then walks over to you, his hands on your hips. “What?”

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” 

Question of the year. 

You ignore him, shrugging, then tell him you’ll be in his room. He waits a few minutes before he follows. He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do if you’re not going to try with him. He’s asked you a dozen times at least, and yet you insist that nothing is wrong.

At least you staying over means no more hiding from him; Dean will find out what’s wrong—he won’t take no for an answer. 

When he steps into his room to see you’re not inside, he assumes you’re getting ready for bed in the bathroom like you always do. He’s about to check before you shut the door behind you, jumping when you notice him. 

Except it’s not a normal: ‘oh my god, Dean! You scared me’ moment. He’s pretty sure he saw your eyes watering— again, so not ‘fine’. Your stubbornness is something Dean's always admired about you, his lover, the person he gets to spend his life with, so it came to him as a surprise when you started using it against him. 

He won’t let it come between you.

“Dean?” You ask silently when you look back at him from your spot on the bed, and he’s still standing in front of the bathroom. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good.” He reassures, glad to see you calm down after the scare. It doesn’t take long to turn off the lights and for your breaths to get shallower. He lets out a deep breath when he hears your soft, relaxed sighs, safe next to him once again. He’s not sure he could ever really share you (with your house, in this example. But in all honesty, he wouldn’t share you with anyone or anything, and he’s made that clear). 

Dean takes a little more time to fall asleep, but he stays cuddled up next to you, one of his arms underneath your body, the other on your waist. He used to hate being this close to someone at first, never understood why he’d need to do it, but the more you weren’t by his side, the more he felt like he was losing a piece of himself. Dean will always seek you out.

That’s when he feels it. The small rustle of the sheets as you move around. He’s half asleep, and it’s subtle at first, enough that he doesn’t wake up fully. But you do it again, this time with low sobs, and it alarms him so much that he flips around, waking you up in a babbling mess of ‘what’ ‘where am I’ ‘oh my god’. 

“Hey, hey.” Dean says, his hand coming to wrap around your arm. “You okay? You were crying.”

When you bring your hand up to your face, there are, in fact, tears running down your cheeks. You pull away from him completely, mumbling something he can’t quite hear before running to the bathroom in pitch black darkness. Alarm bells are fucking pounding in Dean’s head, but he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do. 

He doesn’t get off the bed for a while, still debating his next move. He doesn’t want you to get angry at him but does that matter if you’re crying? 

He decides he doesn’t give a fuck at you being upset with him and knocks harshly on the bathroom door that you locked behind you. “I’m fine, Dean.” He hears you call out a second after, which is complete bullshit, but he knows he has to be gentle in a situation like this one.

“C’mon, sweetheart. Let me in and tell me what happened.” It doesn’t take as much convincing as he thought it would, because he almost falls down when you open the door suddenly. He straightens up at your frowning figure, tear stricken face and red eyes. “Hey, what’s all this?” He steps closer, bringing you into his chest, and you don’t even struggle against him, you just let out a breath when your head’s on his chest. 

“It hurts.” He’s not sure you’ll ever know how bad it hurts him hearing you say those words to him. “I see them every night, Dean. Every single night, they’re just in my dreams, and I can’t sleep, and I can’t— close my—”

Yeah, he gets it. He shrinks the distance between you and presses his lips to your head. “‘S okay.” He knows it isn’t. He can’t have you sleeping three hours a night and still overworking yourself. He can’t have you running around yourself trying to hide this from him when he’s the reason you’re like this. 

He didn’t know that the nest would be there, but he knew you would be. He was the one who sent you the location and then your car broke down half way there— he was just glad your phone was still on. 

But he doesn’t say all of that. Instead he breathes in your shampoo, thankful you’re so close, that he can smell and feel you. That he still has a chance to make it up to you.

“I’m sorry.” Your low voice breaks his heart a little more. “I didn’t— I know you do this all the time, and I shouldn’t cry, I know that.”

“Stop.” His voice comes out jagged, and it makes you look up at him. “It shouldn’t have happened in the first place; you should’ve never seen that. I’m sorry you did.”

You don’t think Dean’s ever once apologized to you. 

“It’s fine to be scared.” His finger licks under your chin, the more contact with him, the more safe you feel. And it’s a terrifying emotion, being so relaxed with someone— enough to let all your inhibitions go. “I’m here for you, always.”

He might burst seeing you visibly calm down due to his words. The trust you have in him— he’s not sure if he deserves it, but he knows he won’t take it for granted. ”Back to bed?”

“Back to bed.” You don’t get your full eight hours, but it’s only because he woke you up a little earlier for some morning activities. You’re pretty sure it’s the best you’ve slept in a month.