Ten More Minutes?

I’d love to get up and actually do things with my life, but honestly, my bed is just too comfortable.

Like yeah, waking up and brushing my teeth and going downstairs to devour some breakfast sounds nice, and I do remember there are some donuts left over from yesterday’s book club, but dream donuts are just as appealing. The morning jog that I promised my dog the other day? Well, I’m sure the poor thing would be overjoyed, and so too would my body, but it’s so much easier to just lay here and stare at ceilings. And the emails that are sitting in my inbox, just waiting to be answered, would probably light up my boss’ face if I ever replied, but he’s never cared much for me anyway, unlike my pillows. After that... Wasn’t there a party that needed to be planned? My daughter? Psh, I know of no such person. 

So sure, there might be a million things that I need to do, and a million more that I actually want to do, but right now, cocooned in my blankets, nothing sounds better than just ten more minutes.