Dawn of the walking dead

Before I have my morning happy juice, I can easily be mistaken for a walker.  I stomp around the house with bits of leftover drool hanging from the corners of my mouth, balls of yellow sleep threatening to glue my eyes shut, hair uncombed and wildly knotted, unable to communicate in anything other than a string of unintelligible groans.

The pfft, shhh, splatt of caffeine sloshing down into my mug and the bitter aroma of the black liquid slowly beckon me back to humanity.  I know enough to slap two slices of bread into the toaster and push them down.

Slurppp...

The hot black liquid sloshes over my tongue, jolting my heart back to its normal rhythm.  The smell of slightly burnt toast permeates the air.  Still sluggish, I clumsily slather on the last of the homemade cherry jam and hoist it towards my mouth.

Chomp...

Splat!!!

Ahhhh....

All eyes are on the prize!  In one corner weighing in at 22.5 pounds Tina the Bean.   In the other corner lights flashing, Robot Vacuum.  Rounding off the competition is 1/2 zombie.   The tension is mounting, its going to be a tight race.

   

The winner is..... ME!  Zombie or not, its the LAST of the homemade cherry jam!  I'm not above eating floor toast.

  

The mailman never comes on time...

Last week my sister and I took place in an online auction for some Newfoundland Art Prints. We won on the same day, we paid on the same day and the prints were shipped on the same day. Hers were delivered yesterday.

Today should be my day.... perfect, I'm not working today.

All morning I'm perched in a chair with the best view of both the driveway and the door, waiting.

The minute I give in to my bladder, waddle off to the washroom and drop my pants, the doorbell rings. Seriously, the mailman could not have been timed better!

By the time I pulled my pants back up and got to the door, all that was there was the parcel pick up slip telling me my package will be available tomorrow after 3pm.

Stupid 3 cups of coffee, made me miss my prints.