One of the biggest blessings growing up in the Boston area was the plethora of Dunkin Donut shops. Within a five mile radius of my home there were at least half a dozen locations. Today of course is National Doughnut Day. That makes me happy. Happy enough to extend an invite to Mayor Mike Bloomberg. If you’re hanging out in upstate New York today swing by my house and I’ll hook you up with some honey glazed heaven. I’ll even serve up some skim milk (no soda, I promise).
Right now it’s cool and rainy outside my office window. Instead of focusing on rewriting chapter eleven in my current manuscript I’m watching puddles form on my front porch. Yeah, it’s that kind of day. Allergies and insomnia have finally wiped away my cognitive abilities and I’m too lethargic to care.
So, I’m going to throw on a sweatshirt, prop my feet up on my desk, and think about the ten doughnuts still sitting on the counter in my kitchen. If Bloomberg doesn’t show up before noon those suckers are all mine.
Before I slip my computer into hibernation mode I’ll share a picture of my son from his First Communion. I promised to post one a week ago — but of course I forgot. Here he is with his Uncle John. Cute, huh?