sunday morning coffee

4 January 2009

This morning I awake and stretch my toes luxuriously deep down in the toasty cotton jumble.  I call for the maid to bring me my coffee, but the impertinent little bitch is nowhere to be seen so I have to get up and make it myself.  I look out the window at the pretty winter scene in the park, then take pleasure in going back to bed with the coffee where I audibly “mmmm” that wonderful first sip, wiggle my toes some more and listen to the radio and read my book and think about all the things I plan to accomplish today.  Later.


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