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By 5:41am I can already tell it’s going to be a bad day, mostly because my twins have taken turns waking me up every 20 minutes since 3:17am. I alternate between the two babies until 5am when I’m able to get almost a whole half hour of rest before they wake again. I feel like a dying neon sign: flickering and buzzing and attempting to function properly. I can’t focus. I’m short-tempered. I cry at least twice before lunch. There’s a reason that sleep deprivation is used as a torture technique.