At least in my corner of the world.
Somewhere else it’s still Sunday. Perhaps evening. I’m not really sure.
But here, it’s Monday already.
Wet outside. Cold too. Like the universe decided the best way to wake up your life was to douse it with a whole heap of ice water.
My head feels like fluff. Floof. Candy floss.
It’s the lack of sleep. Or the moment if once well asleep, and now awake too soon.
I think there’s a few more hours of rest in my brain. It’s just not happening in my body.
Ramble. Lots of words and all the fluff makes it ramble.
Sets the tone for the day. This Monday.
Where I had already spent the Sunday before planning how much I would achieve and how this day would look.
Instead contemplating now, what the latest time difference in other corners would allow me to defer my chosen Monday chores to.