My Saturday morning so far has included the following events:
1. Getting up late (9:00 a.m. this morning...and when did that happen? when did I start considering 9:00 a.m. late? probably on the same day I uttered the words "pocketbook" and "I need a sweater to take this chill off" )
2. Upon waking up, it took me a good 4 minutes to figure out what day it is. And I still got it wrong.
3. Walked into the kitchen to get coffee, and heard groaning and feet shuffling, turned around to see who was making all the racket and then *sighing* realized it's me.
4. Listened to my husband talk for 10 minutes about the enormous size of one of the eggs our chickens layed this morning. He even got out the eggs from yesterday and compared them.
5. Spent 20 minutes saying, "Taryn, it's 10:15, get up, Tayrn, it's 10:20, get up, Taryn, it's 10:30, get up..."
6. Was asked by Taryn, after finally getting up at 11:05, "why'd you wake me up so early?"
7. When asked "what do you feel like doing today?" the thought, "I wonder how many episodes of season 5 can I squeeze in today?" was the first thing that popped into my mind. Followed by my wonderful, egg-loving husband saying, "Please, no "Lost" today." How'd he do that? I guess mumbling, "they have to go back, they have to go back" in my sleep last night might have been a clue. Plus the glazed over look on my face probably didn't help.
8. And finally, ate 16 pieces of turkey bacon for breakfast...but no eggs. I just couldn't. I felt sorry for the chicken.