The good news is that daylight savings has kicked off. The bad news is that you lost an hour of sleep you would have needed to recover from a rollercoaster ride of an election, and to prepare for whatever comes next.
Because as one Winston once pointed out, this is not the end. It is not even the beginning of the end. But it is, perhaps, the end of the beginning.
National might have emerged the main party on the night but we’re now observing the political equivalent to a unit of time made famous by modern football’s most successful manager, Sir Alex Ferguson.
For this canny Scot, the 90 minutes of a match were just the appetiser to the main event. His Manchester United sides became so adept at winning late that any added minutes in a match became known as Fergie Time.
He may have recently retired but the mantle of master strategist and time-bender has passed to another septuagenarian, his political brother from another mother, Winston Peters.
So here we found ourselves, living in Winnie Time; an amorphous measure that could last days but will, no doubt, feel like weeks.
And we hope that, as Ferguson invariably did, the country emerges from extra time as a winner.