Henry and Emma back in the loft proper. 10:48… what the…? Time is starting to piss me off.
Wrote a note to Uncle Stevie… in this new year, more humor. Making fun of, well, all of it. It’s there to be a joke, or at least a code of comedic consideration.
No more coffee I decided. Not sure why that one cup was so assertive, but I’m like a lightning strike before the flash at this nook table.
Time set for departure… going into note mode. Logging off for a bit.. study kids, and self. Try and fit in a shower if I can which is essentially frivolity in the loudest pound.
I’m in my Beat read this morning, self-adorned in new shores, moving blue oars.