Can I Have Pasta for Breakfast? Or: The Random Thoughts of the Chronically Sleep Deprived

The Pioneer Woman

I woke up wanting pasta. With tons of olive oil, with garlic, fresh parsley, and mountains of parm. Is that possible? No? Okay. Peanut butter toast it is. A poor substitute in every sense of the word. 

I've had this book sitting on my shelf, waiting to be read for a week now, and I haven't had time to so much as crack the cover. I need to block off a couple hours for sitting on the porch with a glass of wine and diving into it.

I'm taking Viktor here today, to do some much-needed essentials shopping and to get him out and about in the world. Everyone we bump into in public thinks he's a girl. I don't really know why. He has such a "wassup, bro" look on his face at all times.

I need some new wool socks for the winter, and I have no idea where to find some really good thick ones. Cutsie dress socks inside of  work boots do not make for anything pretty.

I need a nap. And it's only 10:30.

I have a birthday party to go to and I wonder how much writing I'll get done today. Not much, I don't think.

If you missed my 12,000 mentions of it, Keeping Bad Company released yesterday and can be found here. Fearless Part I: Lying Down With Dogs can be found here. There's some crossover between the two. Mercy and Walsh make rather large cameos in KBC. It's fun.

I hope you have some pasta in your pantry, unlike me - and I hope that didn't sound dirty somehow. Pasta in your pantry...yeah, you could dirty that up if you wanted. I'm too tired to laugh at my own stupid joke.

Happy Saturday.