Before I even sit down to write, I know that all I want is to let the tide of warm bed, warm bed, warm bed sweep me back out to wherever it is that we go when we sleep.
The girls and I snuggled up and read a few pages of Susan Cooper in the California King, and then all drifted off together, breathing off-beat, competing, deep sleep breaths. In my case, dreaming of missed deadlines between the snooze alarms until finally I rose to blog. Monday night blogs are often made of such stuff and nonsense.
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