I woke up at 5:45a.m. today. My day off, I might add. John was already awake too. After I laid there for about five minutes cuddling and enjoying warmth, I just got up. I abhor laying in bed if I am not going to get any sleep out of it. John, who also whined about the misfortune of hitting snooze three times a day during the work week, yet being wide awake at 5:40 a.m., chose to stay in bed on principle. So, In your face mister-sandman.
I probably would have drifted back to sleep. I simply could not. The muse was giving me things to write down in whole sentences. Instead of her usual, not so clever (not to mention conceited sounding) approach of "I can do that." So, I opted to get up, shower, and dress in the hopes that I may appease her, and possibly speak to the elusively diligent student, Miss Pipsie, in the UK. Who is a muse in her own right.
I will warn that next week from Wednesday to Sunday, I will be in Virginia visiting my father. So no journal entries during that time, since I have no desire to have my father stumble across this skinny-dipping-tattooed-lustingafterartists-treehugging-cursing-like-a-sailor side of myself. Which reminds me. Must e mail him.
I love all of you, but I must dance with the muse.
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