Today was about me and my couch. That is me and my ass on this couch. It actually started way before the "day" part of the day when I hacked a nice dry fuck-you-cedar cough all night, and woke up at 4am not able to take it anymore. I felt badly for The Boy since I had literally been eh-eh-eh-ing the whole time we were in bed, so I went to the couch. It is really a futon, and is horribly uncomfortable, but I usually can manage a nice nap on it. If I sleep with my head elevated, I don't cough as much, so it seemed the best decision possible. Also, I felt the bedroom was too hot. There is something very wrong with me in that while I am asleep these days, I sweat like it is the middle of summer and no shade. During the day, I'm freezing and must wear layers and cuddle under a blanket. The living room was much cooler and full of cats! I slept on the couch until 8:30am, then went back to bed to snuggle The Boy. Then I commenced my full couch camp-out at 10am. The only times I got up were for the bathroom, drinks from the kitchen and once to go out and get a pizza. Some people may think that is a sad Christmas, but luckily for me, it was just a wonderful day off where I could be on the couch all day long completely guilt-free. I accomplished reading, eating, holding cats, and watching Beowulf (why did they bother with the animation?), Away We Go (oh god, give me more of that fat boy gleefully talking about smothering babies!) and Catch-22 (I believe it should be law that everyone reads this book at least once a year; and if you have too many books in queue, at least watch the movie).
Two more days of sloth! Whoot.
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