Twitterpated

I, ahem, just learned to text today. I feel like I just learned to walk or something. I am a big girl now. So text me already. Twitter is next, but I'm gonna make it easy on you. Here's my Twitter for the next 365 days.
4:45 am: stumbling into kitchen to feed cats, then dogs, tripping over several in the process. I saw an article that said if you drop dead in your house alone with your pets, the dogs will wait a decent interval before they chow down on you, feeling guilty even then, but the cats, ah the cats, my beloveds, tuck right in before you cool off.
7am: work, snack, work, work, snack
4pm: back in the nest, slumped on the couch reading and hanging with aforementioned dogs and cats while Mr. Smith naps
5:30pm: Mr. Smith rises and serves a fine cup of coffee to me, the restorative cup, my cocktail. His coffee, like him, is the best in the world. He puts so much thought and effort into it.
6:30pm: ringing the dinner bell
8pm: snoring on the couch. Don't even think about waking me up unless something really trashy - I mean informative- is on TV.
10pm: official bedtime, climb into bed with Molly, Miss Formerly Feral kitty for safe and restful, sleep, sleep, sleep.
Shabbat Shalom, Everyone, shabbat menuhah.