And when I say cooler, I mean a 25-degree difference from yesterday. Overnight, the weather shifted from a gorgeous, comfortable day to a cloudy, windy, “Yep, this is definitely fall” kind of morning — a real eye-opener after sleeping 10 1/2 hours (which I never do) and realizing I overslept and was late for breakfast with a friend.
Commented to said friend that after sleeping like that, then dashing out of the house to meet someone for breakfast — three scrambled, sausage, grits, toast and a gallon of coffee, I felt like a private dick in a Mickey Spillane story. Or Wade Stuart. All I was missing was my trusty .45 and a brassy dame with legs up to here waiting for me in the jalopy.