One More Coffee

And so, my alone time didn’t help much yesterday.  Too quiet.  Not enough kid.

However, I have three new sentences that I didn’t have this time yesterday.  They are mostly about ice cream.  Because we start where we are.

Today started with coffee and pancakes.  After Isla climbed into bed with us and farted in my face.  Thanks, kid.  I’ve decided that that’s not a metaphor for the rest of the day.

Today’s the kind of day where the TV is on, but I’m also listening to music.

And I attacked the beeping (I’m not censoring myself, it gets loud when it’s finished) dryer with a broom-stick.  Y’know, the one I usually have up my ass.  Neil was out and I couldn’t reach the machine.  And I’m resourceful.  Or something.

In other news, we ordered an actual camera.  And because we live in the boonies we are still waithing for it.  Scenery isn’t allowed to happen til it arrives.  That’s a lie.

Hold the phone.  We got to 4.15 in the afternoon before Isla requested an episode of Peppa Pig.  Big real-time/live comment of the day.  I feel we’ve turned a corner.

I think I should switch back to fiction so I don’t jinx this new state of loud Zen I’ve found.  Or something.

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This is what my alone time looks like.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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