Morning scene last Sunday.
The clock struck 7.30 am. I open my eyes.
The clock struck 8.30 am. I am staring outside the window at the blue sky.
The clock struck 10.30 am. I am still in bed, prodding myself to get out of the bed, to begin the day, to cook something to feed the self and the other 2 creatures in the house. And then the side chores and their remembrance weigh the mind down. There is also a visit to the Asian store on the cards to buy vegetables which needs to be done before 5 pm because the store ( and everything else) closes down at 5 pm on Sundays.
Inner voice #1 – “The breakfast