Hi. I'm here to whine about not wanting to go to work today. I just want to be back in bed, curled up with Mia bundled deep under the covers. My eyes firmly shut, the weight of sleep firmly sealing them till lets say the hour of 9 or so.
My coffee is very warm, deep and sweet, rich with milk and a bit of cream. It's brewed from that yellow can from New Orleans, that chicory coffee, Cafe Du Monde, I think. It's rich and lovely and heavy on the tongue. Admittedly, I bought it because of several mentions in Anne Rice's last book, Blackwood Farm. Possibly her best work, if not a close second to the epic novel, The Witching Hour. I scalded my milk and poured it into my cup with "two big spoons full" of sugar (fructose in my case) as they did over and over in the book, making a rich lovely Caffe au lait.I'm sitting here basically stamping my feet not wanting to go, I know I'll get there and all will be well, and I'll even enjoy it a bit. They say to make yourself smile and you'll end up smelling better. LMAO, oops. errrrr feeling better FEELING better that is what they say. Anyway, love to you.WE ALL FALL DOWN
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