Is 8:30 p.m. Too Early for Bed?

No. It is not too early. 

I rose at 7:45 a.m., brewed a big pot of Copper Cow Vietnamese vanilla coffee, cooked tortellini and sauce to put in Punchy's lunch tote, handled a visit from the plumber and his assistant about our broken garbage disposal, weathered high-octane stress and drama before Punch went to school, did my weekly DBT therapy on telehealth and worked on assignments and/or invoices for three clients. I didn't even take a nap. 

See Eloise at the top of the ladder? I love this illustration by Hilary Knight from the story of a little girl that I used to read to Figgy sometimes at bedtime. I will pretend I'm reading it to myself now. Image from here.  I forgot that Hilary was a man.

Bonus points because I ate three healthy meals that included fruits and/or vegs instead of skittering into junk food.

B: Whipped cottage cheese with fresh strawberries.

L: Tuna on whole-grain with roasted red peppers on the side.

D: Leftover One-Pot Pasta with Ricotta and Lemon from the NY Times that I made last night with elbow macaroni and handfuls of watercress and fresh spinach as Melissa Clark suggests in the intro. Pronounced notes of fresh lemon juice and peel, red pepper flakes, fine Parmigiano Reggiano sourced from Van Hook Cheese & Grocery, a fancy purveyor in Montclair. (I bought a small wedge at Dry Goods Refillery on this end of town. It's fun to shop there, farm milk and eggs, solid shampoo bars, local products, tablets and glass spray bottles to make your own cleaning products instead of heaping more plastic in landfills.) 

Sometimes, on Cape Cod, especially when Figgy was little and we had put her on the tandem bike behind Dan's bike and pedaled for miles on the bike path, we would be exhausted and all three hit the hay by 8:30, once we got back home.  

We are not on the Cape with a young girl but we are Monday-night tired. Time to lower the blinds and rest. And now it's closing in on 9:30.

Good night.