Sunday, August 20, 2006

not miami..

Sunday should be reserved soley for leisurley dozing right up until mid morning while drooling into your pillow, followed by a long breakfast then back to bed with the paper and a pen to do the crossword. Maybe you'll emerge from the warm embrace of the doona in the early PM, go do a few things; shop, drop in on friends. Maybe you'll just sit around playing with your remote control or other noteworthy stiff objects for the rest of the day. All done with a smile on your face, because it's Sunday, it's almost spring, the sky is a deep blue, the day is yours and life is good.

Or, how's this? You get up at the crack of dawn because without caffine you have been yawning at people by 7pm. This means that when you finally get to say hello to your bedsheets there's no time for cuddling your pillow and pretending it's Alan Rickman; oh no, you have already fallen asleep! A good night's sleep means you get to hear the birds twittering in the trees the next morning, a rather foreign sound to untrained ear. You pop the kettle automatically but before you can reach for the coffee you realise it's not there anymore. It's been cleverly replaced by tea. Bloody peppermint tea. You try to go back to bed with the paper but all you can think about is what you don't have..

Last night someone casually mentioned fantales (the lolly) and you have not stopped thinking about them since. One mention has made your nether regions contract in food lust. You have already gone through the fantasy of being naked in a pool of caramelly ambrosia. Surely this is a joke, how can someone be this addicted to yummy goodness featuring chocolate and caffine? Two weeks isn't that long is it? Chriiiiist.

Do you have a vice? Does it rule you?