What day is it?

Happy Sunday, my friends.  It’s Sunday, correct? I’m having one of those weeks where I don’t know what day it is most of the time.

Mom had last night’s leftovers cooling on the counter before she packed them for the fridge.  Chaucer saw and  opportunity and snagged himself some chicken.  Understandably, Mom was pissed, because the chicken would have been her lunch later this week. 

Yesterday was yet another “weather alert” day.  We were lucky.  We had enough wind to keep me from spinning anything in the yard.  Fortunately, that was pretty much it for bad weather.  There were a couple of downpours, but they were very short.  However, none of them dumped enough rain to even fill the birdbaths.

Fortunately, the skies have cleared.  The weather forecast for the next few days calls for gorgeous weather.  I may actually shave my legs and wear shorts.

Who am I kidding.  I probably won’t wear shorts.

I probably won’t even shave.

I do want to make an effort to leave the house.  Workouts, when weather allows, are great.  But… that’s not enough.  Forty-five minutes under a tree is good.  An hour or two spinning poi in the dark is nicer.  However, I feel like they’re barely enough to scratch the surface of my desire to leave.

Aaaaaand… I want to leave so much. So. Fucking. Much.