Home Alone

Once more, the perils of being home alone confront me. I’m really, really trying to be a mature adult this time. I’ve only had ice cream once, and pizza once. I’ve done the dishes, and haven’t really been jumping on the bed or anything… although I’ve logged quite a few hours with the food channel and The Sims 3™.

I’m usually draggy most mornings, so hit snooze a million times and keep trying to get back to that dream I was just in. But the cats, Suzie in particular, act like it’s Christmas. Every. Morning. They just can’t WAIT for someone to get up to get them their breakfast, so they lay at the door, scratching at it and mewing hopefully, (endlessly) especially once the radio alarm has gone off. When I finally totter out of bed they go racing around like some huge wonderful thing is about to happen, and all I do is put some dry cereal in their bowls. Sillies.

Being on prednisolone hasn’t helped me get much sleep, but on the other hand, I am feeling much recovered from my tonsils’ murder attempt and am grateful for modern medicine.

Being a grown up isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.

 

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