Good morning, y’all. I’ve been out of bed for an hour at the very least. Shawshank just crawled out of bed. Podrick is already getting on my very last nerve. I’m awful, and I won’t let him play with all the cables and fun things in the corner where there was a prime hidey hole to prevent me from hauling him out of the corner. I say WAS, because I crammed an old pillow into the hiding spot. And because I’m so awful, he spent the rest of the time before Shawshank got up digging in a coil of cable behind the couch. He’s been territorial and bothering Pippin again as well, trying to kick her off the cat tree and trying to jump on her from the kitchen table.
Six days until your balls are gone, li’l buddy. Enjoy it. For now, he’s been put in time out, and is simmering down in the bedroom.
We had a slothy day yesterday. About 10 minutes before the secondhand store was scheduled to open, I put on a bra and pants.
Shawshank is home today. He’s going to go pick up the vacuum from Shady Acres and we’re going to have burgers for dinner and wrestling for lunch.
