8am. Wake up. Determine where to go for breakfast.
9am. Discuss at length the pros and cons of making breakfast vs. dining out.
10am. Debate on who’s more hangry (hunger +angry) and decide that person gets to choose what to do for breakfast.
11am. Eat breakfast dangerously close to lunchtime.
1pm. Patrick drags me food shopping. I list the reasons why Sundays should be spent doing anything but food shopping. He reminds me I need food to live. I oblige, and go with him to the food store.
2pm. Patrick picks everything out and I whine. Due to my lack of cooperation, I usually offer to pay and/or bake cookies.
3pm. Too late for lunch, too early for dinner, perfect time for a nap.
5pm. Wake up before dinnertime, discuss why Sunday naps are glorious yet detrimental to us actually getting anything done around the house.
6pm. Give Thumper a treat. Watch him eat it and comment profusely on how adorable he is and how sad we’ll be when he dies (this is mostly me talking, Patrick doesn’t like to talk about Thumper dying).
7pm. Eat dinner, that Patrick will likely cook.
9pm. I fall asleep on the couch/my big chair/on the bed right around the time dinner needs to be cleaned up and Patrick allows me to turn in for the night, however he does remind me that my 2-hour afternoon nap should have kept me awake enough to clean up for dinner.
“Hey I just signed up for some of my name change stuff so let’s not call any of the companies until I have that.” – Me
“Okay. What did you change it to?” -Patrick
“You don’t like Banana? Should I change it to Tiramisu?”
“No. Creme Brûlée.”
“Done. On it.”
[Insert famous Friends scene here]