but it really was my soundtrack: "I can't stand Mondays". It started with LOML rolling over, looking at me and querying "What time is it?"
As I had an eight o'clock meeting, and had to drive twelve minutes to get there, and it was already 7:45, well, let's just say that I didn't have time for a nice leisurely shower this morning. Or any shower.
But I made the meeting, with thirteen seconds to spare.
Yours, like old pajamas, feeling slept in,
N.
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There was an occasion BC (before children) when we woke up at 6.48 and MrM made it onto the 7.30 flight to Paris with 5 minutes to spare. He looked rather tired when he arrived for the 9.00 meeting and when somebody commented on this he said "I was in bed at home less than two hours ago!"
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