I woke up on the wrong side of pms. I am so irritated. As soon as the alarm sounded at 7:10, I knew I didn't want to go to work. But I'd already taken a day off earlier this week for the exact same reasons, so this was not a possibility, or was it? Upon reaching for my contact case, holding the very last of my contact supply, I found that it was missing. I looked to the blurry vision of my kitten Fig, and he meowed meekly with guilt. Apparently, Fig holds a great affection for taking my contact case in his mouth and hiding it in unknown crevices. Frantically, I searched all the usual spots, albeit in a handicapped state since I was BLIND. I screamed at Fig, implored my roommate for sight and help and experienced overall hell. Part of me was a little excited for the potential excuse to stay home and sleep in, but the more practical side of me knew my ass would be grass if I didn't find my contacts. Contacts found, shower hastily jumped in and out of, I made it to work. And I don't want to be here.

But the Jalepeno beef jerky serving as breakfast (courtesy of my hillbilly coworker Frank) is making me feel a little better.

I've put my pillow on the opposite side of the bed, so my head is right next to the window, which I leave open most nights. Waking up with the sun in your face is the only way to wake up, I have found.

Unless you beat the sun, in which case proving that European residency is not necessary for morning bakery visits becomes of specific and special importance.

So that is what I did. A friend and I consumed a chocolate croissant, hazelnut croissant, hot cross bun and apple flaky something and shared a cup of coffee. Decadence. But pastries should certainly not become the focal point here.

A local park soon became host to our morning escapade. We kicked around an abandoned soccer ball we found sitting at lonely quarter field of a soccer green. Later, with the aid of a homemade quilt and a guitar, a playground found a new use as private auditorium where we played and sang an assortment of Simon and Garfunkel/Elliott Smith/ Etc. tunes i.e. spaced out and stared at the sky, serenading all the dog walkers lucky enough to be dog walking past.

Babe on VHS, the end.

I forgot about the spring back this morning. Now instead of an hour of morning left, I have six minutes. I'm spending those six minutes watching my new kitten Fig meow through mouthfuls of food and tentatively investigate my apartment. Life is good.