This morning I woke up to K’s uncomfortable alarm. He
snoozed and as my mind lingered between sleep and awake I thought about how to
cook a pepper omelette for breakfast. After the second (or third) snooze, I
headed for the kitchen with a dream plan. I was being so instantly productive
that I said the “not-so-awake” line, “Why am I moving so fast? What do I think
I am? A race car driver… of my legs?” It’s ok. I didn’t know what I meant
either.
I’ve got personal training at 9:30a. It’s an appointment; a
plan and I can’t miss it. Then I’ve got the third floor to straighten up and
the possibility of an afternoon museum trip.
But I’ve got to cut this a bit short if I’m not going to be
rushed.
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