Even if we are eating burritos, you will always remind me of coffee.

Last night I totally scored a free dinner when my neighbors took me out to eat at a Mexican restaurant I'd been wanting to try for a while. I had the biggest burrito in the world. I only ate a forth of my meal, and--hey--no one has ever accused me of being a light eater, so that's saying something. Also, I kept raving about the margarita I ordered. It was so delicious. And then it occurred to me that I couldn't taste the tequila in it. So, weak margaritas equal deliciousness, but then they become kind of pointless.

This morning I woke up super early, face down in my mattress with something warm and furry on my elbow. I rolled over on top of the Monkey Butt, who had stolen my spot, my blankets, and my pillow during my sleep. She protested mildly, and normally that's when I would have shoved her off the bed, but it was a warm body, albeit a fuzzy one, and I've been missing that lately, so she was allowed to stay so long as she shoved over enough to let me share my pillow with her.

Not very long after, I was up for good, hours before even the sun could begin the day, and I cooked a big breakfast of coffee and muffins and bacon and a hardboiled egg. It reminded me of when Dominic and I were still in college, how we used to cook ourselves hot breakfasts every morning before our 8:00 class, then carry the coffee with us in travel cups. Those were good times, and, though sometimes I have to remind myself of it, times are even better now.