…is when the alarm went off, after I re-set it. Fuzzy was still home, and when he moved his chair in his office the rolling wheels on the hard floor sounded like distant thunder. The dogs were huddled close to me, willing me to feel better.
I haven’t had coffee all week.
Instead I’ve been sipping cold water, or chilled cranberry juice mixed with lime Perrier. The carbonation makes my tongue tingle, and forces a smile even when I’d much prefer to wallow in crankiness.
I made chili last night, and watched the final episode of Gilmore Girls, and then Fuzzy came home a couple hours later, by which time I’d found a marathon of cheesy Alien Nation movies (tv-verse) running on one of Cinemax’s sub-channels. I confess to watching one and a half of them, but the cable was glitchy and made it too frustrating, despite the game of tallying the number of AN actors who had also done guest appearances in TNG.
And the mocking of the hair styles.
Or lack thereof.
And then to bed, to sleep, to wake at nine being told I should rest, and the resetting of the alarm to the afore-mentioned Noon.
Which is when I woke, and drank a peach and pomegranate yogurt smoothie.
I think I’m hungry.
And I think I want coffee.
But I’m afraid I won’t like the smell of it, as happens when I feel like this.
And it’s always so disappointing.
Also, to the LJ crew: I’ve been testing a new plugin that allows the cross-posting of blog foo to LJ. Not sure if I’ll continue it…Might….Might not.