For about six seconds, I was blissfully unaware. And then I remembered everything. I put my head under the pillow and groaned. At least my hangover was gone. I shuffled into the kitchen wearing my robe and slippers to make some coffee. I leaned one hip against the counter and watched the water slowly drip into the pot, wondering if it would ever finish. Have you ever noticed how coffee pots seem to know when you’re standing there watching them? It’s like they’re friends with the regular pots. While I waited for the coffee, I grabbed a piece of paper from the shopping list magnet on my fridge and sat down at the kitchen table. Front: Ever drink too much at a party and make a fool of yourself? Inside: Honey, that’s okay. At least you weren’t home alone watching Touched by an Angel reruns. Front: Feel like you never do the right thing? Inside: Honey, look at it this way—if you always did the right thing, you’d probably have no friends, because who wants to hang out with someone that boring?
