Sunday

Waking up with a mild hangover from a big-ass wedding reception the night before, where -- shockingly -- the misanthrope that I am had a blast.

A morning cup of coffee watching our two dogs tumble over one another in the backyard.

The Sunday New York Times.

My wife being my wife, which is to say adorable as hell.

A blissfully sunny and hot summer afternoon.

A late afternoon matinee. The return of George Romero making movies about flesh-eating zombies.

And a great new song by the Fountains of Wayne, "Maureen," blaring over the car radio (SIRIUS satellite, lest you think Oklahoma City radio suddenly became bearable).

Life can be so friggin' beautiful. I've got to do a better job remembering these days.