Sleepy Sundays

If you live in the Northeast, you know what I mean by a sleepy Sunday today.

These are the days that just make me want to curl up in sweat pants and a sweater with socks and my hair down and climb into bed with a good movie. Everything's quiet. The rain drizzles down steadily, not enough to hear on the roof but enough to make my hair frizz. It's dark but not too dark. The once-crunchy leaves are plastered to the ground outside, rather morbidly, really.

I want pumpkins.