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My Day! My kinda day! The one with the heaven sent extra hour!

You get up late and feel good about yourself, cuz hey, it's not that late. Just in time to catch breakfast at the corner diner without dashing before end of service. I can even safely knit a few rounds without worries of having to cook my own messy breakfast upon missing out. Perfect sunny side-up that I didn't have to cook? That ought to put a smile on a witchy knitter’s face!

Can you tell me why they agree to make all those cloying foods like poutine at 3 AM but refuse to make bacon and eggs past 11 AM? Injustice! Segregation! Conspiracy I tell you! They do need bacon all day, don’t they, for all those un-kosher bacon cheeseburgers? And they have the nerve to serve us this lame excuse by pretending it messes everything passed breakfast service time. Big brother has taken over I tell you, sowing gloom all over by preventing honest people to access honest and simple pleasures, like breaking their yolks to make a happy face. Who will save their soul?! AH!

But let’s put that aside and rejoice: one extra hour spent knitting on tiny needles delicious tiny stitches in deliciously thin baby yarn. Oh! the pleasure.

And to top it off beautifully, you go to bed and it's not that late either!! You’ve accomplished a lot without burning the midnight oil. And I can go about at my relaxed pace all day without guilt. I have all the time in the world: I have an extra hour.

And last but not least, Monday morning, I will be radiant. No blues. No grumpiness. All smiles. With or without yolks.

Ah, if every day could be like this!