Good morning, y’all. I’m coming at you from a brand spanky new Chromebook, a Christmas gift from Shawshank. We’re up. I can’t tell you what time it was when I first woke up, but I was UP-up around 6am. Shawshank woke up around the same time, fixing his sleep mask and using the bathroom.
We had another enjoyable day as sloths. Shawshank went out to the post office to pick up mail after receiving an alert about packages. There were problems at the post office, because it’s run by a woman who has no fucking clue what the fuck is going on in there (but knows all the gossip in town, of course). About 20 minutes later, his mom pulled up outside our apartment just in time to watch me shoot a big plume of pot smoke out the back door, had she been paying attention. She had a package that was too large for Shawshank to walk across town with, so she brought him home as well.
I briefly poked my head into the fabric basket to look for a specific sheet. It’s a bright orange sheet that I firmly believe is the same exact color and pattern my grandmother had as a patio set in the early 80’s. In the end, I put the sheet back, deciding I’d rather pillage a pair of pants, made from the same fabric, instead. I don’t expect a headache during this crafting sesh. I’ve already drafted and cut the pattern, which was the most painful part of the whole thing. If there’s any headache, it’s due to a blindingly orange floral pattern.
We both played some “Persona 5” in the afternoon. I was mostly trying to grind my way down to a save point, finishing up two assassination contracts in the process. Shawshank‘s on his second playthrough, so I don’t need to worry about spoilers this time around.
Shawshank has closing shifts tonight and Saturday, so we’re going to use tomorrow as a shopping day. I can read a chat screen now, so streaming will be muuuuuch easier again. Tonight, hijinks.
