Monday Is Awesome. When You're With Matt.

Holy schniekies, I got off work on time today, in the actual daylight of a gorgeous spring day. So, duh, I needed a drink.

I called Matt the Miller Man. And for the love of Mike, he wasn't busy. We made plans to have dinner. Yay! Dinner with my oldest friend! Huzzah! Since I've known Matt since seventh grade, I'm allowed to write "Yay!" just like 1983. We arranged to meet at The Dub, and have dinner across the street at The Blue Goose, and although I did not have one of their world-famous Swirls, I did drink a shot.

On a muthafuckin' Monday, bitch.

I don't know where that came from.

Anyway, Matt usually doesn't drink on Mondays, and I usually don't drink (shots) on Mondays, but since we're old pals, we broke the rules for each other. Olive juice, Matt. It was delightful. And damn, fresh tortillas ought to be a national landmark or something.

The combination of hanging out with Matt and eating fresh tortillas has given me this dopey grin that will not quit. Also, I'm blogging in bed, which never happens, and which I love, because I am more committed to this bed than the law allows. I seriously love to sleep. I love to lounge. It's the best thing ever. The next best thing to my bed is a hammock. Or a chaise longue. One of the oversized ones in the Crate and Barrell catalog. The only thing better than napping poolside is napping in the pool. Or in the tub. I fall asleep in the bathtub I suspect more often than the average American.

I have a vivid memory of falling asleep on a towel under the mesquite tree in my aunt's backyard out by the pool. I remember the grass below me and hearing the South Texas breeze blowing those thorny, supple branches back and forth over me while I tried to resist the sound, to stay wake, not sleep, with a sun-warmed and faded beach towel covering me to keep the surprisingly cool shade from giving me a chill. The wind in the mesquite tree sounded like the ocean. There's no kind of sleep as an adult that rivals the deepest sleep of a child. Every nap I take is just an attempt to recapture that so perfect nap that one day, beside the pool, at my Aunt Sue's.

Sweet dream, my lovelies.