I have a very bad habit.
I use my Blackberry as a bedside alarm clock.When it goes off, I pick it up, turn it off.
And then I check my email.
Not cool, I know. When you wake up in the morning, you should be giving thanks for another day and plotting how you will take over the world–not checking to see if anyone has emailed you since the night before.
So, Sunday morning, my Blackberry buzzes. I roll over and pick it up. I can hear Tog in her room singing “Where Is Thumbkin” very softly.
Just one new message.