I woke up a good two hours earlier than I’d intended, from a nightmare that was long and involved. I don’t remember most of the beginning, but most of the end of it I spent in prison in a foreign country. I kept nearly getting out, but no one would believe who I was. I’d get friends on the phone and they’d think I was joking. In the end I spent years in this prison before anyone came for me.
After I woke up, I laid in bed for a while imagining Damian Lewis coming in, barefoot, wearing nothing but jeans, all sleep rumpled with his hair all sticky-uppy. He’d be bringing me coffee and and asking what I wanted for breakfast. I stared at the door for a while, but he never appeared, presumably because he is an actor on TV and not my boyfriend after all.
Monday ended up being the mother of all Mondays. After I posted about the sewing machine and the mail, the TV died, I broke a few dishes and set off the smoke alarm. Maybe not in that order. Not a good day at all.
Today I need to make a list, drink coffee and get cracking! I have foods to pre-prepare, shopping to do, tons of cleaning, cookbooks to read, panic attacks to have. Oh, god, I forgot about pie. People are going to want pie, huh? ACK ACK ACK.