As I read this, my husband had started a fire and then went up to bed (very common; he thinks he wants a romantic night in front of the fire, and gets so relaxed that I have to wake him and push him up the stairs) So much for geriatric love life. I sat on the couch for a bit, dozed for a few seconds with my new doggie. Got up, fire still there, and came here after finishing most of the kitchen duties (he does 80% of kitchen duties. Those who cook should not bear the burden of cleaning (a marital agreement), but I did scrub a few things he doesn't know how to handle, and put in to soak some things that were too hot to handle when he konked out.
Point being, I'm totally relaxed. I snoozed for a few minutes in front of the fire, and am having a glass of wine while I consider the next newspaper column I need to write.