Woke up with the alarm this morning, at 5:45 like a good girl. I didn't want to, and in all honesty I didn't get out of bed until nearly 7, but I did awaken and stay mostly so until then. Made plans to leave at 7 so that we'd actually get out the door just in time to drop off Michel-Ange at Fox and Fox. They're going to fix his alignment and ball joints - hopefully so that he stops going >klunk< when I turn or go over one of the ubiquitous potholes on my way to absolutely anywhere. That would be nice; the noise is really rather unnerving.
So we dropped off Michel-Ange and Angel dropped me off at school after napping on my lap for 20 minutes or so. And I suddenly wondered: when did I learn to like eating oranges? Up until not so long ago, I shunned all things orange (perhaps a subtle rebellion of the poet in me; no use for anything that doesn't rhyme) - but now, of late, I find them quite yummy. Had an orange this morning, foregoing my yoghurt for it. Was good. Plus, fruit is good for you. And oranges, whole, are a good bit of fibre.
Too bad I'm so sleepy; Dr. Lee plans to finish her lecture in lab too. Why can't they schedule this stuff right?
sleepy