I've had what I like to refer to as a Kelly day today. Kelly is a former roommate of mine, a still dear friend and a loyal reader of this blog. When Kelly and I lived together, I would wake up on a Saturday morning, move my tired rear from my bed to the couch, watch an unacceptable amount of I Love the 80's on VH1 and maybe, just maybe, get in the shower by 11:30.
If in the right mood, Kelly would have been to the grocery store and back, TJ Maxx and back and maybe even taken the bus to Marshalls and back, after waxing the kitchen floor and cooking breakfast for everyone.
While I still have more domestic goals for the day, I got out of bed at 8, made my way to Target, the grocery store (the one I REALLY love to go to but is a bit far out of the way) and made a stop at Dunkin Donuts for the ride home. Got home, put groceries away, cleaned up the kitchen, showered, had breakfast, took out the trash, cleaned out the fridge, addressed a clog in the shower and made the place look pseudo presentable for my guy's return tonight. And it's only 11:30. If I wanted to be REALLY amazing, I'd do the pile of laundry currently awaiting my attention, but the fact of the matter is we've entered the danger zone time in the laundry room. There's probably already a line waiting for the washers.
As much as I long to be one of those people who can sleep until 10 or 11 every weekend morning, there's something so wonderful about being awake and in motion while the rest of the world slumbers. If only this would inspire me to get up and exercise in the morning. Ha. Not a chance. But how wonderful when there is no traffic, the sun has just finished rising with still a hint of orange in sky, no lines, and you have every excuse to wear your hair back in a baseball cap and no makeup applied. Without judgement. There's also a great sense of satisfaction in building up justification for a long afternoon nap.
After all, I have a game 7 to be alert for tonight. Go Sox!
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