I'd almost forgotten what real sleeping in was. Not the decadent feeling of "Well, I'll just set my alarm clock to 9 instead of 8 because I deserve that extra hour", but actually not setting the alarm clock at all.

I woke up at 9 anyway, the Male long gone (I did not do that movie-esque roll over and stretch out to find blank space, but rather muttered: "What time is it?" and when I got no response, realised I'd better sit up and look for myself).

And now I have the wonderful, beautiful realisation that after breakfast and ablutions, I have nothing that needs to be done for the day.

Oh, apart from wandering into Civic and buying a pistol. I might just get one for Nards as well. Good Christmas present.