For, you see, three-fifteen in the a.m. will roll around before you know it, and you will have found yourself unable to put the book down due to the freak show that rhymes with Fenesmee.
And when that six o'clock alarm starts chirping, and you have to drag your exhausted self out of bed, your eyelids unable to support their own weight, you will realize that it was most definitely not worth it.
(Except for the parts about that wild and delicious honeymoon with someone whose name rhymes with Bedward. Mmmm....)
There. That is all.