A Perfect Sunday

I am in the middle of what one might describe as a perfect Sunday. I have no obligations today other than reading the paper, catching up on writing, and watching a plethora of sappy Lifetime movies. I baked a cake and am waiting for my darling daughter to get home with a yummy, cheesy baked potato and chocolate frosty from Wendy's for dinner. The weather is an easy, breezy, rainy day which adds to the relaxing atmosphere. Lady and the Tank are both sleeping on either end of the sofa and even the fish seem quite zen today. I bet this is a gift from the cosmos because tomorrow I have a department meeting at work which is more brutal than sitting through a mouthful of root canals. Sans Novocaine. I'll take today and bottle up the feelings to take to work with me tomorrow.

Fridays

Well a very dear friend of mine has ever so gently reminded me that the only way to keep writing is to pick a day and write. Good idea, Jude. Friday=writing day. I believe that being responsible to myself should be a priority but something always pops up to invade my space. Like today. This morning started with a bang before I even opened my computer and hung up my coat. Two very similar faculty members are fighting. I say similar because little do they know but they both possess the very same characteristics that they despise in the other. Both are stubborn and want what they want. Both ultimately want the same thing but are too dysfunctional to get it done. I finally had had enough and interceded. Peon or not I'm tired of hearing about it and do like both of these goofballs actually. So I butted my motherly, secretarial, administrative assistant-ness into their faces and got them on the same page. The project is back on track and I need another cup of tea. And then maybe I'll find a cool writing assignment out there in freelance world. Write on, peon...write on.