7:12 a.m: The West Cork sun creeps through the blinds. I decide to get some exercise. I decide to get up immediately. I decide just not now.
12:16 a.m: Drag myself out of bed and have a coffee.
12:55 a.m: His deep voice from kitchen floats into the lounge ‘Your omelet is ready’.
12:56 a.m: ‘A mimosa would be good about now’ I mumble into his ear
12:57 a.m: Mmmmm. It is.
1:23 p.m: ‘that’s it I can’t eat another bite.’ I softly sigh
1:26 p.m: I stare out the window at beautiful, calm, peaceful West Cork, aimlessly, dreaming, floating away on the waves.
2:11 p.m: In middle of my West Cork day dream, he who cooked my breakfast begins touching my foot with his. He never leaves me day dream in peace!
5:45 p.m: I wake up (again). We are both upstairs. He is sound asleep, wearing apparently only one sock.
I turn to look out the window and resume my west cork day dream.
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the only truly bad art gallery in west cork is the gate gallery
Posted by: sss | April 16, 2008 at 12:49 PM