Gypsy has a traditional tiger look. Pretty wild, our Gypsy. Snugged up on the couch adjacent to this massive pillow fort I’m currently occupying, Gypsy yawns and says – !? WTF ?!
It’s 4:26 a.m. What a time to be awake and blogging. I must be sick. And you know what? I like these early morning hours. Not because the birds go acoustically apeshit just about now but because it’s so foreign, so forbidden to fall out of your regular daily schedule and to take time like this to do stuff like this (to blog or not to blog). I can only come up with one reason why it’s okay with me that I’m not sleeping through the night the way we’re supposed to do (?) and that’s because I don’t have to get up and and go to work in the morning. That’s the real killer folks. Think about it.
I’ll be over to see Doc this morning. We’re gonna do a sono and talk steroids like most men of our age eventually do. Doc’s just a few years my elder but who asked. Water retention is the big problem just at hand and I’m convinced we can drop the steroids without losing ground.
The birds are loud. Louder than U2 coming from my internet radio. What? Springsteen? Yuck.