Last Saturday I woke with this damn dirty cold. The whole week has been tremendously hard. Work has bent me over with unreliable staff and an unusually busy week, and with the cold getting worse and worse I've been dreaming of Saturday morning. I thought there was no way a stupid cold in summer would last more than seven days. I had visions of waking up this morning and breathing through ALL of my nostrils.
Also, I would like to ask the universe why my two and a half year old suddenly likes waking at the first sparrow's fart? Man, up until this age he was a better sleep-inner than me. There were plenty of Saturday mornings prior where me and his dad would look at each other with concern at 10am wondering if he'd been sneaking out to parties already. Not no more no how. Right now he's yelling at me to cook him eggs. I can only hear him out of the good ear; the one that didn't burst when I tried to blow my nose before... happy weekend!