So I dreaded today as I do every Monday. I laid on the couch like a slug yesterday barely moving. I do this on June's (June is my mom, it's her code name) couch, because even though I have my own coach, her couch feels like home. So laying on it leads to eating on it, which leads to drinking fabulous coffee on it, that is so good the kitchen could become a cafe, and this is because she brings it to you while you lay on the couch and always brings me something sweet such as a white powdered brownie, like last night. Yep, she made brownies just because she felt like it. I did not inherit this gene. I don't have to ask, it just appears automatically and I like that. It was so good I had the dreaded second cup. I know better. The second cup stands for laying in my own bed flipping from TBS to USA to TRU TV with my eyes wide open and then counting down how many hours it will be until I get to work. I know better.
So I had the most unusal dream of this totally hot italian guy. I can't remember his name, but I remember it being awesome. I can't imagine what prompted it, but I have decided I am destined to marry an Italian. I mean, olive skin, an accent, pasta making skills, num chuck skills, romance in the blood, a desire to have twins. Ok, it could happen. But it was so vivid, I really thought that me and my Italian were going to go motorcycle riding near the ocean.
Then I woke up and it was Monday...
