Oh Sunday morning. The unofficial beginning of the week. I wake up to steaming hot coffee and place myself on the couch, not wanting to get up, ever. The stove in the kitchen is yearning to feel the weight of the hard anodized frying pan and the chopping board is all set for the fête champêtre with its friends, namely, onions, spinach and potatoes. Today is the cooking day. I have to cook for the rest of the week and it can be a real pain in the wrong place when am not in the mood for it. I want to stick my lips out, roll on the floor and bawl like a toddler who's toy has just been snatched away." I don't want to cook!". Neither do I want to eat out. I want to be lazing on a sunny beach somewhere in the Caribbean, lying in a cabana, listening to the waves splash, sipping a lemon drop and letting the masseur use her arty fingers to shoo away the stress built in me. Boy, that sounds fabulous. OK, let's get realistic. I got to go now. Kitchen's calling. Ciao!