Sunday mornin' comin' down

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This morning has a very Sunday kind of feel about it. Mark is off walking Chance; when he gets back we'll go on an errand run (grocery shopping, Target, etc.) Then later we have a play date with Chance and Tosca, and Mark wants to make a Sunday fried chicken dinner. What could be better?

The only problem is that my neck is hurting like a mofo again. Dammit. I am trying to figure out if it's better with my hair up or better with my hair down, but I think it would be better with my hair off completely.

My interest in actually doing the reading for my classes next week has dwindled to sort of a sad trickle. I did the reading for my Monday night class, but haven't cracked a book for any of the others, and it doesn't look like there will be tons of time to do that today. Oh well, at least I had four weeks at the beginning of the semester of pretending I am a dedicated student.

I wonder if anyone is reading this thing? I kind of feel sorry for them if they are--it is so rambling and so very uninteresting.

Someone on the Ms. boards called me inauthentic the other day. Is inauthentic even a word? I felt like an imposter Van Gogh painting or something.

Today's shopping delimma: Does (fruit flavored) nonfat yogurt WITHOUT artifical sweetners in it exist? If so, why can't I find it?

Things that say Sunday morning to me:

The Sunday Times
Waking up with the sun streaming on to your bed
Sitting around in pjs or whatever passes for them for hours before you take a shower
A long slow stretch and the feeling that although you should probably do something productive, you don't really have to
The church bell down the street

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