I'm very sad it's Monday. So sad, in fact, that I'm making myself physically sick while sitting here at work. I'm nauseous, my head hurts, my eyes hurt, and I feel hot. All because I'd rather be in bed. I don't know why I make my body do this, but I keep sitting here thinking how I can get home, and being "sick" seems like the only possible solution right now. So I think about it and I think about it until I finally think myself ill. And it makes me want to go home that much more.

I don't know what it is about my weekly schedule, but Friday and Saturday night I sleep like a baby, but come Sunday I wake up 50 times a night through the week. I was practically awake from about 4:30 this morning until my alarm went off, and it is really working on my attention span at work today. So I'm taking a break since it's too freaking cold to go outside and shop.

Hubb and I had our first fire this weekend, complete with cuddling on the hearth with our kitties, reading good books, drinking coffee and making smores. It was a fabulous way to start the Winter, because apparently fall is on its way out the door pretty rapidly. There's so much comfort to me in the heat, the sound, the smell of a fire in my very own fireplace. It reminded me of my youth, and made me reflect on how lucky I am to be so happy with my life. Odd that such a primal and traditionally necessary action as making a fire created such comfort and contentment for me. Don't hate me, Chicago, but I kind of hope we get snowed in soon. I have everything I'll ever need right at home.