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Ideal:
I sleep late.
Then, sunlight streaming in,
I am served coffee in bed
with the Sunday paper.
My sweet dog cuddles next to me.
You reach over and squeeze my hand.
Life is good.
Reality:
5:45 get up to pee;
can’t fall back asleep.
I toss, turn and finally
get up for coffee
and the paper,
then stumble back to bed
knowing somehow this won’t end well.
I spill coffee
as the dog jumps onto the papers.
You reach over and squeeze my hand.
Life is good.
Awhile ago over at IGRT Grace asked us to write about our Sunday morning routines. This isn't exactly biographical, and it isn't very polished (or finished) but it's here it is. It's too late for me to link there, but you can, and should, stll click on the link and check it out.
