I think I will devote an hour of my morning trying to figure out where the bruise on my elbow came from. I don't have high hopes.
I'm scattered this morning. I keep laughing to myself at the memory of the cat, mid-hairball, in the middle of the kitchen floor. I picked him up telling him 'not in the house, mister!' and as I hustled him out the back door, he kept gacking away. And with every wheeze, I saw his toes splay out. Front paws and back paws, waving around, toes stretching every time a wave of hacking hit. 'I shouldn't be laughing at you' I told him. Oh, but I did.
Sometimes I start a week off by asking myself : should I give into whims this time? I don't think I will this week. Well, I don't think I will after I satiate my Cheez-its craving. Hello, vending machine breakfast.
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