i am a morning person. not an early morning person, but i tend to wake up around 8ish without the aid of an alarm clock. this is assuming that there has been no debauchery the previous evening, and now that i'm nearing my 30's my debauchery has been limited to cooking and crafting with a glass of wine before hitting the sheets at midnight (or ten-thirty). i go out (like out-out, to a show or out of town) maybe once a month. and now that i think about it, i feel a little depressed that i only do things like that twelve times a year. but not depressed enough to give up my cozy nights in with my boyfriend and kitty-love. i have truly fallen in love with age. with the exception of my body not bouncing back with it's usual youthful elasticity, i have found growing up to be a gift. bridget bardot said "it is sad to grow old, but nice to ripen." i have to agree.
back to all this morning person business, i am also currently unemployed, which i may have repeatedly mentioned. that means an excess of free time and a strong tendency towards going insane. i think the only thing that keeps my on the good side of the asylum walls is the fact that i have a few hours of quiet time in the mornings. my boyfriend sleeps until noon (or later if i would let him) so the mornings are all mine and zed's. this morning i ate cherries, worked on my valentines that will be finished by next saturday, discovered pandora.com (i may have mentioned that i'm slow to catch onto things sometimes), and nursed two bigs mugs of earl grey with soymilk. this is why i haven't flung myself off the roof of my house yet.
a few things that i have learned over the past week or so:
-do not make a 9x13 pan of lasagna when you only have two people in the house that eat it. i have eaten lasagna for breakfast more often that i care to think about.
-the beauty of yo-yo's. they reminded me of country crafts (ew) for so long, but i have a feeling i can make something lovely and modern(ish) with them.
-the flaw in looking for flaws in your own work. (oh, irony. you taunt me.) you truly are your own worst critic and it rarely gets you anywhere but scrambling through the bathroom cabinet, searching frantically for those last two xanax saved from some dental procedure 8 months ago specifically for an occasion such as this. sigh.
-you can tell the age of a whale by how many layers of ear wax it has. really, it's like the rings of a tree.
speaking of trees, i have fallen in love with these pillows. fabric woodiness? fabulous! if only i could crochet. and read some dearoldlove.com for a shot of vengeful or wistful nostalgia. just in time for valentine's day, right?