Have you read Tom Sawyer, by Mark Twain? Or are you at least familiar with the portion about the picket fence, where Sawyer tricks people into painting it for him? Kinda like my day.
Slept in. Patricia didn't get up, so I made breakfast. The dish fairy hadn't descended from the heavens and done the dishes, so I washed them, getting a little bit of bleach all over my new fave shirt, which I can no longer wear to work. Patricia still wasn't feeling well, so she remained in bed.
I started watching some episodes of "White Collar" when maybe I should have been transcribing the latest blog interview. Patricia remained in bed.
Around 5pm, I began to hear her in the kitchen, so I went upstairs and saw her, still not feeling well, so I prepared Sunday dinner of broiled salmon and potatoes and corn and tomatoes while she lay back in the living room.
She played me, tricked me into doing all that work today. Just because she was sick.
I'll get her back. I get sick, too.
I know where she lives.
See you tomorrow.