It's 9:30am on Christmas Eve. And I am still in bed. Not back in bed - oh no, babies - I didn't get up and do some magnificent chore or other then look longingly at my bed, only to find myself uncontrollably drawn there. Nope. I'm still under the covers where I've been since about 11 o'clock last night.
Do I have an unparalleled list of things I have to accomplish before leaving for SC later today? You betcha! Do I expect to actually get any of those things done? Yep. I do.
But for now, I just can't seem to drag my lazy body from the luxuriousness that is my morning.
It's been decided - by me, of course - that I can use the excuse of "It's Christmas Eve!" and stay here for a while longer. But apparently guilt IS allowed on Christmas Eve, if just a little. So I figured writing a blog post from bed was enough "work" for me, for the moment.
In a little while I'll get up and consider that list. And it will freak me out, oh yes it will...you know I've forgotten just how long it is, from the horizontal vantage point, the next room over. But okay. I've forgotten. The accelerated buzz of activity in which I make up for lost time? That'll come soon enough. For now, though, I'm thinking to roll back over and wrap myself around one of these squishy pillows.
Merry Christmas, Ya'll!
Okay...reality calls. My beloved Mr. Pie is sick and in a bit I'll be going to pick up a prescription for him. So up I go! Seriously hate that he's sick, but apparently I needed to have a fire lit under me today...