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
Saturday, September 5, 2009
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