Jeez, I'm cranky when I wake up too early. I shouldn't be surprised I'm up this early -- I couldn't keep my eyes open by 10 p.m. last night, so I crashed in the midst of reading John M. Ford's
Web of Angels. But I don't want to be up yet -- the sun's not up yet (or at least, it hasn't made it over the mountains). It's still chilly in my apartment, and my throat is sore, and I'm anxious about this coming weekend, and I don't feel like doing any of the work I have to do. Some of this will undoubtedly change shortly, but it hasn't changed yet, so I'm a big whiny baby at the moment.
I miss Kevin, dammit. This is one of those mornings when I would have been much happier snuggling in with him and dozing for another half hour, rather than getting up and facing the day.
But there is no Kevin here, so I will have to settle for tea and possibly a teddy bear. It's just not the same.
