I like to sleep late in the morning. And I really like to scrub.

1. Awakened from dreamy, contented sleep by Minerva, who arrived early. Minerva cleans our house, and yes, I am ever so grateful for her housekeeping efforts. Absolutely. But. I also really like to sleep. I really do. And since I generally go to sleep very late . . . well, you understand. I really wanted to ignore her knocking. I really wanted to be grumpy. Oh. So. Much. But, of course, I wasn't. I was warm and friendly and did not complain. I did not ask: Why are you here so early? Because I am nice. Because I strive for that attitude of gratitude. Really. 

2. Emma, our Malamud, had diarrhea on Henry's rug. Henry is our Great Dane-lab mix. He's very good-natured. Very. Have I mentioned how much I love to clean up dog shit? Oh. I haven't. Well, girls and boys, that's because I don't. Not one bit. 

3. At this point, I decided I deserved a sofa day. A very lazy, very slothful sofa day. Which meant TV, because the book I'm reading now is a very heavy hardback. Surprise, surprise, surprise: There was nothing of interest on the telly. 

4. His Bertness and I ran to Safeway. Or, at least, that was our plan. A plan marred by one teensy-tinesy fact: We locked ourselves ? and Henry and Emma ? out of the house. Bert ended up going through a second-story window. Thank goodness the ladder was outside and not inside the garage. Procrastination scores again! His Bertness did look rather cute as he pitched forward into his office.

5. We were awakened at 3 a.m. Why? Emma had diarrhea. Again. Poor Emma. Poor me. Poor Bert. Happy. Happy. Joy. Joy.

6. Have I mentioned how much I enjoy cleaning?