Fatigued Sunday mornings. The perfect chance to do nothing and everything all at the same time, and one of the most eventful days of the week for any female in her prime. It was approaching noon and I was relishing in the unproductive joy that is the morning after party mode. It was my turn to provide the hangover brekky, so I was making French toast (with fresh roma tomatoes and shallots) for our girly brunch. We, as per usual, had all congregated for a “debrief”, still decked out in pajamas and remnants of black eyeliner that the drunken eye had missed during 5am removal.
Archive | September, 2010
