Last night we had friends over for dinner, and our cats, overstimulated by the Unaccustomed Presence of Other Human Beings, rampaged around the house all evening. Today, recovering, they’ve been sacked out all day long, sprawled in the middle of the floor and audibly snoring.
So grading midterms is bad enough, without this spectacle of sloth before me. I’ve decided that although I have a mountain of things to tackle over spring break, the very first day will be spent doing not a damn thing but lounging in bed like the cats. My poor fried little brain can’t imagine anything more luxurious (except maybe making popcorn, and eating it while lounging in bed. Oh yeah.)
That’s how tired I am. My fantasy life, once rich and creative, has been pared down (forget Hawaii, no more hitchhiking around the world, who cares about frolicking with Adrian Brody and Andy Garcia) to the idea of spending just one whole day in bed, with popcorn. That’s as good as it gets.
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