Never Wake A Sleeping Woman

When is the last time I overslept? Hmm. Traditionally, I tend to undersleep. So this is a tough one. Let me think about it. Don't pressure me. You're so impatient, you. The last time I overslept was... wait... it's coming to me. Oh, right. This morning. This morning I overslept, selfishly neglecting the rules embedded in my keppy, whether or not they still apply.
Rule #1:
Get tush out of bed by 6:20. Adoring sons need shlepping to public shul.
Revised Rule #1:
Oh, right. Sons no longer need shlepping. They can shlep themselves wherever they need to go. Or take Uber.
Rule # 2;
Let hubby get his tush out of bed by 6:20. The Elderly Eccentric Pup needs shlepping at a snail's pace around the neighborhood.
Revised Rule #2:
Oh right, this still applies. Have I got hubby well-trained, or what?
Rule #3:
Get tush out of bed by 7.
Revised Rule #3:
Or stay in bed. Milk it as long as possible. Here's what I've learned the hard way. Until I get out of bed, the universe revolves around me. Once I step foot on the luxurious yet affordable bamboo, all bets are off. So now and then, I oversleep. In this way, I accidentally grab an extra moment of "me" time.