So here we are.

As the final episodes credits rolled from the Monk marathon yesterday, I turned off the TV at 11 PM and called it a night. It wasn't like I was exhausted from running around all day. In fact, I napped for one entire episode and a half that afternoon. I did wake up at 6:30 that morning, but there was nothing else to do but read- my eyes were too tired to read. As I began to slowly swim away from consciousness and into dreamland I began to evaluate my day. Dull, simple day. I am house-sitting again, in a different location. I have the house to myself for the long weekend. When I'm not at home home, I tend to get all 'Molly Maid' / Martha Stewarty. You know, make the bed perfectly, do all the dishes in the sink every so often so a huge pile doesn't grow to the point of it being unbearable and unfun to look at or wash. I have an urge to bake cookies, pancakes, or a roast. Then the daydream thoughts get to my head: I wish to sit down in the front room and enjoy a nice, chilled glass of White Zinfandel, watching the sun set through the West Window, and read a book. I wish to Line Dry white linens, plant white roses in the yard, make trips to have tea with the neighbors...

It's all very funny, isn't it?

Hej hej,

Any