This morning I woke up to a raging sore throat that felt not entirely unlike what I hypothesize swallowing sandpaper might be like. No, not the stuff with the really fine grit. The stuff with the really coarse grit.
Apparently sometimes you don’t know how much you were using your Outdoor Voice until you’re not anymore.
Croaking = Not My Cutest Moment. Though Marcus seemed to get a bit of a kick out of it.
As we all know, The Show Must Go On. Even though, in this case that meant leaving the house with a wet head to drive in freezing rain.
Y’all know I don’t ever want you to forget that I was a blonde in a past life.
But it was for good reason – Emily, Ann and I made plans weeks ago to gather at Falafel King so we could workshop a summer plan of ours that is (finally) starting to come together in a coherent way.
I mean, come on kittens, I wouldn’t leave the house on a day like today for just anyone.
So we workshopped away over plates of wonderful Middle Eastern food. Hummus, Spinach Pie, Falafel and Salad were just what the doctor ordered.
Once we adjourned and I made it (safely) back to The Nest, I curled up in bed with a marathon of The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills that I promptly fell asleep to.
It’s extremely rare that I actually have a three-hour chunk of time on the weekend where I can enjoy that sort of thing without the fear of Getting Everything Else Done hanging over my head.
And to be totally honest, I usually can’t justify spending that much time in front of the television set. I mean, come on. There’s always life that needs living.
So just call it coincidence. Or The Universe at work. Because there was definitely a point where I thought that the best I was going to be able to do was Guy Fieri. No one is strong enough to take that for 30 minutes, much less three hours.
Once I emerged from my fleece-cocoon, I took it upon myself to research The Official Date of The Queen’s Diamond Jubilee. Because really, it’s never too soon to start making plans to watch The River Pageant and throw a “street party” of our own.
For the record, The Big Day is June 3rd.
How this actually fits in with anything else I’ve just told you, I’m not entirely sure. It likely has to do with the fact that beyond doing three loads of laundry and windex-ing every flat surface in our house, I’m counting it as My Major Accomplishment of the day.
What’s your definition of a perfect lazy afternoon?
p.s. Mads is hosting a giveaway on her blog that includes everything from slippers to dark chocolate with sea salt. You know you want it!