I'm writing you about sleep because I didn't get enough last night and I'm miserable.
Sleep is good for your brain and eyes and skin and happiness, so collect as much as you can. Everyone around you will like you better when you’ve slept enough (at almost-four, this is extremely true of how we all feel about you now, but it will probably also be true forever). You’ll like yourself better, too.
I’m at my best with nine and a half hours. Anything under eight and I’m a wreck. I feel panicky just thinking about a seven hour night. I love getting into bed at 9:30pm. I don't set a weekday alarm unless it's absolutely necessary. I schedule most meetings after 10am. I want to cry if I have to be somewhere before noon on a weekend, not because I need to sleep that late but because I don't like having to rush myself through the wake-up process.
Find your own best number and make it a priority to get all of those hours. Don't worry about people who tell you it's excessive or say thoughtless things like, "you can sleep when you're dead!". When you're dead, it's not sleep, it's death. And sleep is the opposite of death, it's life-giving. Protect your sleep like you protect your alone time. Buy nice sheets and find a perfect pillow and don't take early morning flights.
The older I get, the fewer things I find worthy of losing sleep over. New days solve most things anyway.
Sweet dreams little one,