Gotta love Minnesota. It’s spring in these parts, so that must mean storms. Lots of them. I admit I like the sound of thunder, the flash of lightening, the rain tapping the windows. I like curling up in bed with purring furballs.
I don’t like getting up from the purring furballs. Especially on a cloudy Monday. Especially when my boss forgot to tell me that I could come in half-an-hour later. Really, I don’t mind the clouds, when it’s raining. However, today there were just clouds and clouds and clouds. No rain. (cue the dancing bumbebees)
Today was just a sleepy day. I did get an adjustment, and an admonishment. I need to go see this specialist lady to unlock whatever problem my psyche has that is making me sick to my stomach. Literally. I also got acupuncture. It felt good, tingly. Though suddenly I feel as though I am writing some sort of bizarre children’s book. A is for the admonishing adjusting accupuncturist. Hey, I never claimed it was a spelling book. And for those readers who know my chiropractor, that is oddly appropriate.
Despite the sleepiness, I did get somewhat domestic. I walked to the co-op up the street for the last ingredients, and made a noodleless lasagna. I managed to set of the smoke alarm while roasting the veggies. Apparently the oven doesn’t clean itself, and the gunk will smoke like a hooker on Eight Mile. The old homestead was a little cloudy. Cloudy enough to reintroduce sleepiness. Now that dinner’s done, and the smoke has cleared, I don’t have the energy to eat.
Oh well, that’s why we have a microwave.