Morning in Boulder

I sit in the Pearl Street Starbuck’s here in Boulder, with a handy T-Mobile Hotspot of which to take advantage. (Yes, we must have perfect grammar, mustn’t we? We must.) (Okay, enough of that!) I sit in a warm purple velvet armchair in front of the fireplace with fake logs that nobody’s lit yet. The other warm purple velvet armchair is taken by a sleepy old man who’s either a street person or a math professor over at CU — hard to tell which. (I think he’s a street person because he’s better-dressed, but that’s just my opinion.)

I ate a normal breakfast this morning at the IHOP, so I must be getting acclimated to the altitude. My loss of appetite has been with me the whole time, until now, I guess.

As you will see by the time of this posting, my late-morning habits are also taking hold once more. No matter how hard I try to discipline myself, I end up almost always taking the morning for myself. Descartes did too, so don’t look down your nose at me.

Time for more novel-writing, now that I have my cup of tea just like I like it. See ya…

One thought on “Morning in Boulder

  1. You are allowed to take mornings to yourself like Descartes. You are allowed to travel to far away places in different time zones. You are allowed to work on your novel.

    But you simply must remember to toss us a bone every once in a while just to show you are thinking of us. : )

    Remember to always feed the blog! Woof, woof!

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