Fiorella is weak and wobbly this morning, so weak that it took her several tries and a desperate prayer to finally heave herself up and over the side of her soaker tub. That's what happens when you've had a heavy week, including a visit to a voice pathologist (who may be able not only to help Fiorella with vocal tremor, but restore her singing voice), then top it off with an outrageous rap at the San Gabriel Writers' League meeting. That's what happens when you lie in bed planning your syllabus for the library-sponsored romance writing course that SGWL asked you to teach this fall.
Fiorella's caffeine is life, and, as usual, her cup runneth over because her candle burns at both ends. Her calendar is clear today--let's hope the dogs let her nap a little.
Update: Sonia slept on the couch beside Fiorella and Bosco slept at her feet on the floor.
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