BOOM BOOM BOOM ZZZzzzzzzz...
I enjoyed a lovely Fourth of July party at a friend of a friend's in Evanston, followed by a nice trudge up the lake to a cozy spot on the tennis courts by the Dempster Street Beach to watch the fireworks. The evening was cool and non-buggy and very comfortable. There were lots of little kids running around with glowy necklaces and sno-cones, excited about the prospect of bright things exploding in the sky.
Lately I've been springing up out of bed at about 5:30 every
morning, despite not needing to be anywhere until at least 8. I think
it's simply because my body clock is so sensitive to sunlight cues,
and even with the blinds drawn, once the morning sun starts creeping in
my bedroom window, my internal alarm goes off, and I'm up.
This, of course, means once the sun goes down, I'm pretty much ready
to hit the pillow again. Night before last I made a less-than-equal
contribution to a Scrabble game by falling asleep on the couch a full hour before the game ended.
So
the night of the Fourth, there I am, on an itchy plaid blanket spread
out across a tennis court, curling up with a cashmere sweater under my
head. Despite my very vocally expressive brother sitting right next to
me, loudly enjoying and critiquing every boom and blast, by the finale
I was purring like a kitten. What a bore I am.
Anyway, HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ME!
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