Random Question Friday: Super Day Off Edition
Due to a schedule adjustment that only people in my profession have to deal with, yours truly has a (much deserved) day off. And in honor of days off everywhere, today's Random Question Friday asks you to describe good mornings. That is, when you have a good morning, how do you know? What sorts of things constitute a happy beginning to your day?
Mine involves a pot of super special coffee that I reserve only for weekends and/or days off, some sort of cooked breakfast instead of toast, and a visit to archive.org for some Grateful Dead background music as I shower and clean up, etc.
posted by Trout @ 8:17 AM
6 comments
6 Comments:
Good Mornings... my father would tell you I never have them, but I do, quite often!
A good morning consists of a shower, in which the water is hot throughout the entire duration, crawling back into bed (dripping hair and a rather damp towel) with Dan, where I snuggle for 10-15 minutes while my coffee brews. I get up, have my coffee that has “oops, just a splash too much creamer," and still have time to watch 15 minutes of morning TV! Good Morning Sunshine!
Sleep late.
Spouse makes the coffee.
Pancakes for breakfast.
Go for a walk.
That's it! Today I have all of that, plus a rotten cold. I'd be much happier without the cold.
I can tell it's going to be a bad morning (and subsequently a bad day) when I pour orange juice instead of milk into my cereal and have to take a bite before I realize what I've done. Never fails- every single time I do that it's an off day.
A good morning is any one that I wake up and don't wish that I was still asleep. Bacon in thr fridge also helps.
A good morning would start with me opening my eyes and seeing John Stamos asleep beside me.
I don't have a lot of good mornings.
Mmmmmm... the smell of Napalm.
It smells like victory.
And, in an odd bit of karma mix-up, my bad days tend to start off with me opening my eyes and seeing John Stamos asleep beside me.
good mornings:
awake an hour before jenn is; get the coffee brewing; marley-dog comes downstairs to snuggle up next to me on the couch; i turn on the tv and instead of the standard bass fishing show hosted by some southern bumkin, there's an actual flyfishing show on oln; start cooking an egg breakfast when i hear jenn stirring upstairs.
do my damndest not to think of that john stamos guy.
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