Sunday, October 24, 2004

Good Morning Sunday!

Well I don't know if I can rightly say good morning since I have not yet been to bed, but I had some extra sleep stored up and don't feel too badly. My computer, on the other hand, is groaning at the early hour. I should probably cut it some slack since my computer is epileptic, and in fact just suffered a seizure this morning. It starts beeping, and the screen shakes interminably, so I had to go wake Jason up for instructions. Usually I like to wake Jason up by scratching his back. Jason loves back scratches, so I think it's a nice way to start the day. But just to shake things up, I decided to try a different approach this morning: I licked the back of his neck. I thought that at the very least, it would give him bizarre dreams, and as every prankster knows, that's good for a laugh anytime! Anyway, nothing too dramatic happened, except he did swear and take a few swipes at me in his sleep, but that's not so unusual. Jason is the kind of boy who needs his beauty sleep, and I know what I'm getting into if I try to wake him up early.

Now things are good, Jason is already dreaming again, and I realize that every morning this week, there has been a frosty condensation on the windows in the early morning. That kind of thing is quaint at Christmas, but in October it's puke-inducing. It gets a little colder every day, and I get a little nastier. I wish I could go into hibernation from November until May...or better yet, go down to my Florida condo from November until May. Unless of course they continue to have these terrifying hurricanes. It always seems cool when you're watching the weather guy get pelted with sleet, his toupee is flapping in the wind and people all around him are flocking to Wal-mart to stock up on batteries and corned beef, but the truth is I am not a brave person. I don't think I'd like extreme weather up close and personal.

The morning is always the most exciting part of the day, because you just don't know what's going to happen. Assuming Jason ever gets up, and assuming he's not a complete crank-pot today, we could really go out and do anything. Or stay in and do nothing. Or dust off the to-do list and laugh about how we won't be doing any of those things any time soon. We could go visit my Mom, or go revisit the ducks at Cooper's Marsh, or roll pennies and drink spiked lemonade, or argue about whether or not I should shave off all my hair, or drive up to Ottawa to have drinks with Caroline and Josh (talking to you made me really homesick for you guys the other day!).

But by this evening, I'll know that today has been a bust. I'll take stock and realize that I painted 7 out of 10 toes, reread the passage in my book that I already read last night when I was much too loopy to read, washed my hair but neglected (again) to shave my legs, deleted the Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch songs that magically appeared on my computer, and then we'll rock-paper-scissors for who has to bring out the garbage and recycle. And that's okay too, because it's Sunday, and Sunday is a special day in that you really can just sit around in your bathrobe doing crosswords. Some people are all perky and productive on Sunday's, but they're missing the point. Hairy legs and Cheerios for lunch are what life is all about.

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