Blessed Humpmorning to you, my good friend. I trust you had something that passed for sleep. Mine sucked. I was up a bit after midnight, then roughly every two hours after that. I was too warm, my pillows were not comfortable, Shawshank wanted to cuddle and I was sweaty and wanted nothing to touch me.
The sun is peaking over the horizon and getting more colorful by the moment. Today is supposed to be relatively warmer than it has been for the past few days. Depending on the wind, I might try to go outside. Perhaps some outdoor activities will wear me out and I’ll have a better sleep tonight.
Chaucer is staking a claim on my laptop, rubbing his face on the edge of its screen. Shawshank and Pippin are in the bathroom together. Pippin is dancing in the litter box. Her pre- and post-use dances take more time than the act itself.
I did laundry and made the bed yesterday. I also napped. Pippin was very snuggly, and jumped into my lap whenever I sat on the couch. The natural laws of the universe dictate that one can not move a cat sleeping in your lap. It doesn’t matter that she just wanted you to be the greatest ergonomic seat while she licks her asshole and bites her toenails: you have been chosen.
Later, I made an afternoon hot cocoa and took an afternoon nap with the cats. While I didn’t dust the Warhammer 40k minis like I planned, I did pick one up and look at it. Surely, that counts for something, right? When Shawshank came home from work, we made a dinner of sausages and Kraft Dinner, then settled on the couch for a lot of Law & Order because neither of us could be bothered to concentrate on anything.
Today should be nice. I don’t have anything planned aside from the miniatures. I’d like to tackle organizing the shopping list for our trip into Regina this weekend. At the same time, I’ll keep the poi handy, just in case it is a nice enough day to go outside. Shawshank has promised Pippin he’ll put her little table up by the backdoor.
Soak up the sunshine, y’all.
