Monday Morning

I get up early. I like it. 

Bruno gets up with me most mornings. I get dressed, and after I open the bedroom door, I hesitated for a second, and it is in that second Bruno lifts his head, seemingly from sleep, and gets wearily to his feet and heads out the bedroom door with me. He always does his dog shake on the landing as soon as I close the bed room door. The odd morning that he doesn't lift his head from his bed and come with me, I can't help but feel the tiniest bit disappointed, stupid really.

He and I get on the couch together downstairs. I make coffee. This morning he snores.

I love that time of the morning that is mine.  It is peaceful and quiet and kind of embracing. The world wakes up around me and it is mine to do with as I like. Just me and the world. Oh, and Bruno too.

This morning it is cold and wet.

I briefly glance at the news just to see if anything big happened in the world, which really translates to has my favourite personality done something? How are the ice shelves in Antarctica? Giancarlo Granda who met Becki Falwell at the Fontainebleu Hotel in Miami Beach in 2012, sure is cute. He was an employee attending to the wishes of the guests at the pool area, exposing the hypocrisy of the religious right in the process.

Oh yawn, China sends dozens of warplanes towards Taiwan after US  military drills. China is pathetic, I think. They'll throw a tantrum over anything and everything.

I write my journal, or I write my blog, or I write any story I might be writing. I'm currently writing a short story called Mark Stevens, about a guy I met at uni. He's made up, I didn't meet him, but I wish I did.

Bruno cuddles up to my left leg and keeps me comfortable.

And the day begins.

The last day of the chocolate festival long weekend, and work tomorrow, just don't think about it, I think.