I should be counting sheep, not bottles

Its that time of the month again, our funfilled stocktake. Im shattered, I got to bed sometime after two only to hear little feet running around as my little boy decided it must be "wakey-wakey" time because he obviously heard me coming in. So another half an hour spent settling him down and I eventually crawled back into my bed sometime closer to three. Normal for a saturday night, but somewhat unpleasant when Im supposed to be up for 7ish in order to drag my weary carcass in for the stocktake by 8am. So four and a bit hours later, Im woken up. After a half-assed shave and wash to try and wake me up, its not been the most successful start to the day, Ive got about 15 minutes to make a 20 minute journey (do-able on a sunday morning). I grab a danish and set off, with my eyes still stinging from the lack of sleep, and my feet still throbbing from yesterdays shift. I made it in for about ten past eight, and we started the count. After several breaks to try and shake the trance like state that you inevitably find yourself falling into while counting some 4 or 5 thousand bottles, we eventually finished at just after 1pm, which is very good going. I dont think that we missed anything, but now that I think about it, that was hellish quick we got that done. Maybe we just spent less time dicking around.