also, i want brownies

Greetings and salutations, y’all. I’m writing from the couch. I’m curled up in my corner while Chaucer stares at me. There doesn’t seem to be any place for him to cuddle with us, and he’s upset. I think he’s analyzing the couch/blanket topography, trying to determine if he can comfortably fit between us.

I managed to sleep most of the way through the night. If I was up multiple times, I wasn’t awake long enough for it to matter. I rolled over and looked at the clock when I woke up most awake: 6am, not bad. I rolled way over onto the pillow that neither of us uses, and its differentness was a novelty that let me get a little more sleep before the 7am alarm

We got some snow overnight. Not a lot, barely a dusting, and only on the roads. Shawshank tells me the wind has died down considerably. The walkway was slick last night when we had our bedtime smoke by the back stoop. If I go outside for spin time today, I’m all but guaranteed a busted ankle.

We won’t be doing that. If I go outside, I’ll probably wait until later today, when the sun burns off some of the frost.

The cats aren’t besties yet. However, they’re a lot better than they were. We see more improvement between them every day. Pippin runs up to Chaucer, jams her nose into his ass, and bolts. Every other night, Chaucer will have conserved enough energy to play with her for a few minutes. They have OJ-speed chases around the kitchen table and living room chair. I feel like she would be completely OK curling up next to Chaucer if he didn’t give her the side eye every time she comes onto the couch with us. We can usually have a bit of a “family cuddle” on the couch if Pippin ever stops moving.

Shawshank goes back to work today. I’ll probably assume a human form, test some makeup for this weekend (lawd knows what Shawshank will come home to at lunchtime), and try to actually do something.