Slept in.
9:30.
Hurrah.
Double-fisting coffee and hot cocoa.
Country potatoes and a breakfast scramble.
More BBC.
Yarn balling.
Dyed hair.
…And part of my forehead.
Accidentally.
Long drive to peninsula.
Swedish pastry cookies.
Lunch by the water.
Salad with almond slivers.
Fanta orange.
Why do I love it so much?
Still.
More BBC.
Next series.
(Killed the last one.)
Want salt.
Other than in a shaker, I have none.
Crochet some more to keep my mind off it.
Two fingers of gin.
Bombay Sapphire.
Queens-own.
Straight.
…Poured out in a Casablanca glass.
Remember I forgot to blog.
Hope bullet updates fill up enough space to make it look like I actually wrote something today.
Know that this is lame, and admit it.
Sip on my gin.
…Always reminds me of Christmas.
It’s like drinking a pine tree.
But in a good way.
…In a good way?
Consider washing face so can move this all into my bed.
No, you can’t come.
Get your mind outta the gutter.
It’s ALWAYS in the gutter.
…And lets be real: this is why we are friends.
Kisses,
~D
