If only all Sundays were like this

I had the best Sunday last weekend. We ate too much japanese, drank too much champagne, and took too many cigarette breaks.

We talked and talked, laughed and laughed into the afternoon. Then we staggered off to get dessert. Macaroons were what we wanted and macaroons were what we got. A bag of 2 dozen(!!) little puffs and 2 venti lattes later, we were sugar-high and so very stuffed.

We bought sheets, we bought shoes, we bought a new vase, we bought chairs, we whispered and giggled at too many things. We ended the day back home, sitting on the stairs, talking to the dog and playing scrabble.