May 25, 2009
This Memorial Day morning, I'm so festive I can barely contain myself. I'm a vision in a peach cotton top I'd never be caught maimed in public in and loungy black cotton pants that could serve as going-to-the-laundromat pants except I'm too vain to ever use them for that purpose. I just finished a large iced coffee "concoction" and am procrastinating on bed-making. The back door is open, inviting me out onto the patio, where I will enjoy my next concoction -- after I change my top, because even semi-privacy is too public. Perhaps a straitjacket would be more appropriate?