(in no particular order)
1. The luggage under my eyes gets a chance to begin unpacking.
2. The more I sleep the less pronounced my fangs become.
3. My underpits have ample time to marinate in the night's sweat, influencing the kids to do something other than torment me with requests that I cook them breakfast.
4. It prolongs the agony of being active.
5. My pillows become adequately saturated with drool which intensifies my repugnance, thereby furthering the mission as outlined in #3.
6. It helps me look a liiiittle bit less like this:
7. More sleep means more time to
fantasize dream about lascivious sexual debauchery sweet walks in the park with any warm-blooded a handsome man.
8. Extra time to pretend like I'm Zorro in my powder blue sleep mask.
9. Better bedhead.
10. I can pretend like I have a social life, that I was up till the wee hours of the night partying with my throng of friends instead of doing what I normally do. Come on, tons of people sit in bed alone at night reading blogs. Right?