It’s Cherry Season

It’s cherry season, and I just can’t get enough. I’ve been pretty good about not eating myself sick on the little red fruits, but that’s taken work. My stomach doesn’t tolerate cherries very well. Fortunately, if I spread my feasting out over the course of the day, I can eat quite a lot of cherries, which is nice, because I love them.

I had been procrastinating about cleaning my apartment. I hate cleaning my apartment. I’m quite sure I’ve mentioned this before. Oh, how I do loathe it! After I finally broke down and got started, it only took about three hours to get the place presentable and then some.

Had I bitten the frog bullet and cleaned my place straight away, then I could have thoroughly enjoyed the rest of my weekend gorging myself sick on cherries with reckless abandon. Instead, I wasted the days diligently avoiding chores. I am my own worst nemesis at the best of times. Most of times really. But the cherries, the cherries are worth the trouble.

Off topic, Marissa Paternoster strumming her guitar. It’s practically lewd. That woman can play her some guitar.