love{hate}

Ah, that oh-so precarious fine line...

I love sleep.

I love sleeping in when my husband is snoring behind me and Sacha is rumbling away against my belly. That’s music I can happily sleep in to on a lazy Saturday morning.

Sleeping late? Sleeping late makes me a hater; makes me feel like I have to kick it into high gear the moment my feet hit the carpet and not a nanosecond later. Sleeping late feels like The Not-So Friendly Giant keeps stepping on me while I attempt to stagger through my day. There is not enough coffee on the planet to ease the sluggish pain of sleeping late.

I was late for work.

Next best thing after coming in late for work: a flood of less than polite emails.

Right after that? Going into the kitchen to put a dirty place into the dishwasher and not realizing until I got back to my desk that I had actually put it in the fridge.

My naval orange turned into a blood orange. I’m not sure how that happened. I’m pretty sure that’s a violation.

I wanted to spoon peanut butter straight from the jar into my mouth.  I didn’t.

I did, however, draw a giant circle on my co-worker’s whiteboard that said ‘Bang head here to relieve stress’ which made her laugh which made me laugh. And that helped a little. And the sun was shining.

The sun is still shining so I’m going for a run. Nothing like some heart-and-pavement pounding to slough off the stress of a day.