Hello, Sunday. We’ve made our way out of the bedroom to start the day. Chaucer is glaring at Pippin because she snuck in to use the freshly cleaned litter box before he could. Shawshank and I have coffee, Dateline, and WordPress.
It’s snowing again.
We stayed in town yesterday. We’ve finally managed to flip the shopping schedule to biweekly. Shawshank uses his employee discount to buy necessities in between trips to Slightly BiggerTown. Instead of going anywhere, Shawshank did the laundry. I dyed my hair, relentlessly refreshing Reddit posts about Royal Family gossip.*
I gave Shawshank my No Man’s Sky save file. I haven’t played it much. While I enjoyed flying around, I was in a very uninteresting, very barren planetary system. The game is too lonely for me. On the other hand, he’s pretty much figured out the game. He’s spent the last two months flying around with his pirate brigade, but couldn’t enjoy the online stuff with his profile.
We treated ourselves to pizza last night. Someone told Shawshank the bar in town had good pizza. Someone was wrong. The pizza needs grease. Less cheese, more grease. The crust wasn’t bad, but the pie really needed to be cooked an extra 2-3 minutes, because the cheese wasn’t melty. They don’t use what I consider normal pepperoni up here. It’s leaner and wider diameter, and looks like lunch meat. I honestly think they’re gaslighting the entire region with mild salami.
Today will be pretty similar to yesterday. Comfy clothes, cats, and not much else. The snow stopped, and maybe that was the end of it for the season.
*my favorite unhinged theory boils down to EVERYONE’S FUCKING EVERYONE ELSE (with a side order of murder).
