Ben swore up and down that he would save me a slice of pizza last night so I could warm it up for breakfast but then he ate it. Then he and PJ decided it was a very good day to listen to Pantera on the stereo and I woke up so much worse than yesterday, complete with what sounds like whooping cough that I lunged for my reader and bought Doctor Sleep on it instead of trying to get to the bookstore later this morning.
(It opens at ten and I am still plotting and scheming, even though the book is in my lap.)
I had reheated beef and vegetable soup for breakfast and the leftover grapes from someone's lunch that they didn't eat yesterday and now I'm waiting for UPS because we had yet another pair of lifetime-warranty headphones bite the biscuit and really it would just be easier to cut the price in thirds and provide no warranty at all like in the good old days when things were built to last for years instead of weeks because now an exchange or replacement involves seven hundred emails, a trip to the UPS store to send out the broken thing and a whole day waiting around the house for the new thing to be delivered on whichever day fits UPS's schedule instead of mine.
Thankfully it coordinated on a day when I'm feverish and have a new book to read and have to stay home anyway, but that's not the point. The point is Ben owes me pizza for lunch now and the minute he turns his back I'm changing the CD back to Pallbearer, because it makes me feel better.
So there.
