THIS IS UNNECESSARILY COLD.
Chaucer performed another 5am opera this morning. Both Shawshank and I tried to call him into the bedroom, but he refused. My Bluetooth speaker periodically made its low battery chirp, so I went out and turned it off and directed Chaucer into bed with us. Shawshank scored a few minutes of sleep between opera and alarm.
I had grand intentions of dancing on Clapper last night, even picked out the clothes and had everything pretty much set before dinner. My lower body had other plans. We did a workout yesterday and now we can’t work, it said. Some light yoga would have helped. I definitely should have taken a hot bath. Honestly, I was worried I would be stuck in the tub until Shawshank came home from work.
Today is Shawshank‘s Friday. We’re going to drive out to Slightly BiggerTown after he leaves work, where we’ll pick up the basics to get through the next week or two. He’ll throw me in the tub after we cook our mini-Thanksgiving dinner. Sometime in between, he’ll get a couple of hours to play the new game.
