Dear Evening Rachael,

I know we've never met, seeing as how I run with the early-hours crowd and you hang out alone at night, so allow me to introduce myself.

I am Morning Rachael. We inhabit the same body, but that's about all we have in common.

You see, I rise early and am in charge of getting our body out of bed to face the day. I take care of hubs, four kids and a house that has an over flowing laundry room and lots of junk food that you can't resist eating that keeps you at a sugar-induced high at 4 in the afternoon.

I ingest a healthy breakfast of several glasses of some carbonated beverage, all carefully designed to keep our body going throughout the day, making sure we have enough energy to do what we need to do.

I do this, all of this, even though I live a fairly miserable existence. When I am forced to awaken at 10 a.m., I am groggy and tired and pretty much hate the fact that I have to get up. My only happy thought is: "Don't worry, Morning Rachael. You will be able to get back into this bed in a mere 16-17 hours. Just fight through the day, and you can return to your pillow and blanket."

But see, the thing is, Evening Rachael, you've been robbing me of my sole consolation prize lately. You, frankly, have been functioning so selfishly that, when I arise, I can't even muster up the courage to count down the hours until I get into bed again.

For Lord knows what reason, you get a second wind when you take over at around 8 p.m., Evening Rachael. While I've been dragging us through the day, miserable, tired and wishing/hoping/dreaming of a good night's sleep, you get the ridiculous idea that your time, the night time, is prime time.

You read blogs. You watch movies. You eat snacks. You cuddle with the hubs. You hang with the kids. You start projects that you never finish. You read books. You sift through magazines. You eat, again!

You do everything but take a hot shower and put us to bed!

Why, Evening Rachael, why?

Why do you think it's a good idea to "just read one more chapter," or "scan over my Sony Reader one more time, real quick," or watch "just one more episode of The Office marathon. What's 22 minutes, plus commercials?"

I'll tell you what it is, Evening Rachael. That's 22 minutes out of our sleep time! That's 22 minutes I need if I'm going to continue to get our rumpus out of bed again in what often becomes less than six hours!

Where does your energy come from, Evening Rachael? How can you stay awake till 3am when I so clearly can't function in the morning?

Oh, wait, I know. It's all the crud you insist on ingesting at around 7:30 p.m!

Sure. Popcorn is high in fiber, but must you eat the whole bowl? And don't think I didn't see the huge bowl of chicken salad you ate last night. And yes, I also saw that scoop of vanilla ice cream the chocolate syrup was so "cleverly" hiding. It's like you don't even care about all the careful consideration I gave every morsel I put in our mouth earlier that day. You will blow it all away for a night-time apple-cinnamon muffin!

Evening Rachael, listen to me. Put down the late-night Chex Mix and listen to me.

I've had enough. I can no longer function after you go off on your constant late-night solo parties with your books, blogs, and DVDs.

We have to sleep a little.

Now, wait a minute. I'm not asking for the moon. I'm not even asking for nine hours of sleep. I'll take eight, or heck, I'll take five.

Please, just remember me when you get your second wind and get inspired to do all the things you didn't have time to do during the day because you were to busy facebooking. Think about your pillow and blanket.

Think about your dog. Yes, the dog is on my side. See him staring at you from the hallway, looking back and forth between you and the bedroom? He knows it's time for bed! Why don't you?

I appreciate you taking the time to read this, Evening Rachael. I know your time is short, what with all the blogs and books you want to read. I'm sorry if I was too blunt; I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings. I just ask that you take this into consideration the next time your Sony Reader calls to you.

Until we meet again (you know, when Afternoon Rachael decides to take one of the two naps she takes every year).