Choo Choo
Breather
Ah, the return of the summer schedule. That harried, underfed me in my last post is but a distant unrecognizable memory, dethroned by a lazy, hedonistic thrill-seeker with summer fever and boatloads of free time. (Thrill-seeker is perhaps a bit of a rhetorical stretch, since my idea of thrilling is baking pies while top-lung-jamming out to Stevie Wonder, and having enough time in my day to read multiple New Yorker articles.)
Catching up with old friends, making new ones, eating oodles of good food (summer produce is vibrant and irresistible, second only to fall produce, and very often it's a toss-up), imbibing a bounty of beautiful wines and spirits, waking up before the alarm, leisurely breakfasts, reading, gymming, Netflixing. (Finally hopped on the Breaking Bad-wagon, and what a ride it has been. Three episodes to go in Season 4. What's that I just heard? Oh, that would be the collective "Ohhhh shit" of those in the know. Yeah, yeah, I know. I ain't seen nothing yet. Just I wait.)