Guess who was up earlier than the sun today?
Turns out even I can be wide awake and coherent at such an unflattering hour. Also, it is unfortunate that the butt crack of dawn is so pretty. Must wake up one day (night? butt crack?) and take pictures.
In other news, am in a pensive mood. Need Pensieve.
If I didn’t have Mowgli standing in as my shadow, I think I would die of loneliness. Thanks, little man. Even though you can’t read. And even though you like sniffing underwear (quite enthusiastically), you’re awesome.
The birds were all atwitter and aflutter this morn’. ‘Twas quite lovely, it was. Except for this one annoying one that screeched in regular twenty second intervals from what sounds like the hallway ceiling, but is probably really from outside the bathroom window, because really, what would a bird be doing in the ceiling? Unless it is dead. And dead birds don’t screech. Therefore the bird must be outdoors. This is called process of elimination.
But just because all elephants are gray, doesn’t mean all gray things are elephants. Or turtles. Or Yoshi eggs. Or organic, brown, double A eggs from a Rhode Island red chicken. That was the beginning of the Odds influence. They are an odd bunch. But I like them. They all like drinking and dancing and laughing and crazy eggs, and that’s cool.
It’s almost 8. At this day and age (october-seventeenth-two-thousand-and-nine and twenty-two), dawn is prettier at 6 am, when the horizon is a strong persimmony-orangey orange against a cobalt sky that is still night.
I really need a Pensieve.