Morning-time (or, I Love This Jong)

It feels earlier than it is.  Which is 8:30.  Feels earlier.

Sitting on the couch, Sam is sleeping/gurgling/chugging/sighing over in his little rolly bassinet, The Jeanners is sleeping in the bedroom, the birds outside are singing and the world seems to be waking up, although the traffic out on Walther isn't very loud yet.

Yesterday we had a really nice visit from Aimeeudio, The Beej, and Abby.  They came over to meet the lil' guy and hang out and then went and picked up some Chipotle for lunch.   Very nice to chat and see the Beej and get to know Abby a little more.   And, of course, it's always good to see the A-Train.  This is my hope for her:  that she finds another job but does not decide to move.  Note - the last part of that hope is purely selfish. 

My stomach just growled and it made me remember that we're out of bacon.  And biscuits.  Ugh.  And the morning takes a sinister turn.  Then for breakfast it shall be:  eggs, fauxsage, potatoes, cheese.  Cooked in a scramble.  Perhaps pancakes. 

Had a dream last night that I moved to Chicago.  Also had a dream that I was at a park with BJ, Pat, Ian, and Lesley and that I was playing basketball with a 7-foot-tall basket.  Awesome dunks. 

Ugh.  Tummy growls have become intolerable.  Sam sounds asleep.  Time to start on b-fast.