Good morning, world. Happy weekend. Chaucer is wedged between me and Shawshank, Pippin is by the back door, and it seems like today’s weather might not suck. Shawshank got out of bed earlier than usual. Chaucer woke him up early, and my fidgeting an hour later probably didn’t help matters.

Yesterday was pretty boring. I took a bath, and the universe did everything it could to ruin it. Since the weather wasn’t too cool, I’d left the doors open in the house. I was fine walking around in my jammies, but it wasn’t quite warm enough in the tub. Half my body was warm-ish, the rest was cool. The water didn’t feel nearly as warm as it probably was. Then Chaucer came in and took a nasty shit in the litter box, making the bathroom smell like death. Pippin paced back and forth on the edge of the tub, insisting she needed me to cuddle her.

I stayed in there longer than expected, but not nearly as long as I’d have liked to. I’ll try again.

Shawshank has the day off, and we’re going out to Slightly BiggerTown to buy some groceries and shit. Then, the weekend is ours. I have two pairs of tablecloth pants that need a little bit of sewing before we can try to tie dye them. Will I finally beat the frog in Witcher 3, or do I need to reload an earlier save?