Happy Monday, y’all. We’re all up. Pippin is sniffing one of my sandals, Chaucer is on Shawshank‘s lap. I think my coffee is quiet quitting, it’s doing the bare minimum of its job description: hot, tastes like coffee.
I spent yesterday doing nothing, as usual. Shawshank puttered, I played Slay the Spire on my laptop and folded my laundry. After brunch, he fired up Echoes of Wisdom and beat the game. I very nearly hit A3 on Slay the Spire, but ended up dead on the 50th floor. THIS HAPPENED TWICE. I’m trying to play more aggressively. Sometimes it works, but a lot of times it doesn’t. Shawshank likes to watch and suggest cards for me to take.
We went to Shady Acres for dinner, chicken wings and fried rice. We could’ve stayed for ice cream, but we opted to come home and feed the cats. Shawshank‘s dad was looking pretty worn out, and they didn’t need to entertain us.
Shawshank is back to work this afternoon. We’ll have lunch together and I’ll become human. I’m going to frost a cake.
