sunday morning diary

i woke up at 8:30 and for me, that is a sleep in. i can't remember the last time my eyes opened in the morning and the sun had beat me to it. i moved slowly to the kitchen, honouring the drowsy cocoon that'd kept me safe and rejuvenated my cells these last eight (twelve) hours. i tackled not the mountain of dishes, but each individual dish. soaping scrubbing rinsing, paying special attention to the sunshine on the counter and the pleasing (if deceptive) appearance of clean. i listened to the whitehorse album and the emerald isle song on repeat. i thought my headphones to be a nice and respectful touch for the benefit of my sleeping husband but remembered that my singing is out loud. i concluded it must be nice to wake up to your wife singing in the sunday sun and tried especially hard to make it sound beautiful. that's a mistake though, things are always way more beautiful when they're unintentional.