It is 3:05 p.m.
In 25 minutes, my Mister will be arriving home to whisk me away on a romantical night getaway (Yes, I know that is not a real world. It's from Monsters Inc. and I think it's cute. Yes, I know I watch too much Pixar.)
The children will be spending a night spoiled by Jimmy and Junk Food and The Disney Channel.
The house is clean and the laundry complete, so I will not have to dread my return.
Reservations are made at a wonderful restaurant.
My favorite skirt is ironed.
Something made from some very pretty vintage silk and lace is packed in my overnight bag.
A whirlpool tub awaits.
I have come down with a doozy of a head cold.