Twenty-four

Today was a weather day, better than a holiday, like a get out of jail free card and a day playing hookey all rolled into one. I had a few highlights. Sleeping late was the first and upon waking, staying in my jammies instead of racing into the shower and then going through my closet trying to remember what I've already worn to work.
Another highpoint was lunch at an authentic Cuban restaurant. The worse the English spoken by the staff, the better the food is always a good rule of thumb for any ethnic eatery. This did not disappoint. The Medianoche (Cuban sandwich on egg bread) and tostones were stellar and it was topped off by a flawless cafe con leche. Plus, someone else paid. As lunches go, it was pretty perfect.
Today I also got to call someone out. A friend of a friend (someone I just met) during lunch was going on and on about the frickin' Cubans in Miami, truly not a flattering picture of a people known for their cigars and their ability to flatten a sandwich. Upon taking a breath, he turned to me and asked, "You aren't Cuban, are you?" I answered, "No, but my mother is, asshole."
I got to put a leetle somsing somsing on the delivery of "asshole" which was most satisfying. The fact that I didn't care about being diplomatic in the least was even more gratifying. Like the cafe con leche, pretty sweet.
The rest of my day was a series of errands and phone calls to my family. Then there was this moment after I was home. Nestled on the couch with a book in my lap, my reading glasses on my nose, I found myself in comfort and peace digging into a new tale. Not a bad day at all.