Wednesday, September 22, 2004

A moment for peace

No, not peace in the Middle East. For my morning breakfast.

I've been told by two people that this is some 50's mentality, but I love breakfast. If I had my way, I would spend my mornings leisurely enjoying a pile of pancakes and a cup of orange juice (or coffee) in a well lit sunroom, reading either a book or the paper. Of course, life doesn't work that way. Currently, our meager excuse for a sun room smells like kitten poo and is inhabited by two sweet, but demanding gray kitties. My breakfast is, instead, spent wolfing down a pile of pancakes while Genevieve calls me from the bedroom to let me know what sort of trouble the kittens (who move there during the morning, otherwise they scream) are getting into. Then I throw together something that can make up lunch for Genevieve and I and book out of the house so I'm not more than 15 minutes later than I am supposed to be here (7:30). 'Cause, according to my supervisor, if I am more than 15 minutes late, I need to e-mail *why* I am late. urgh..

Why can't we live @ a Bed and Breakfast all the time?