My day began at five am. Breakfast, hugs, kisses, stepping on the recycling, a spilt tinge of coffee, late to work. It's a short day, eight hours. An ignorant contractor, a slow hauler, a pissed off coworker, an out of town boss. It's a payday week, consider it gone. Spices for soup, two visiting dogs and a pot of curry that's not quite right. It's a school nite for a kindergartener. Rest.
This will be the time of my life.
