I jinxed it last night, and mentioned that I’d been sleeping decently all this week. Consequently, I was up around 5:30 am this morning. I woke up sandwiched between Shawshank and Chaucer, with Pippin snuggled next to my legs. I was probably too warm to stay asleep. But, I woke up to sunshine. The skies are pretty clear, and the day is supposed to warm up.
Yesterday was decent. I did my makeup on camera in the morning, another bullshit excuse for a “get ready with me” stream. I’ve had a few people who’ve decided to make repeat visits. I have no idea why. I don’t talk to people or even describe what I’m doing. The last time I said something that wasn’t just a greeting, I was wondering why I had 100+ people watching me when I didn’t even know what the fuck I was doing. My streams are bullshit clown shows, and I know it.
Some of my followers have started a “FREE THE CHEEKS” campaign in response to my post about the “catch 22” nature of my shorts. Someone else wants me to spin poi in platform flip-flops. That sounds fucking dangerous, and I told him so.
Eventually, Shawshank came home and made me cut the stream so we could both go to dinner at our regular place. Our regular waitress was back to work, but only to help out in case things went pear-shaped in the restaurant. She thanked me for the clam chowder recipe I gave them, and said all the customers loved it. I’m not at all surprised – it’s the same recipe the best clam shack in Rhode Island uses. Now we just need to make clam cakes a thing up here in TinyTown.
Today is the start of a busy weekend for us, with no proper SLOTH DAY. Shawshank works a half-shift today, so I’ll be on my own for the first half of the day. Tomorrow, we’re going to a farmer’s market and doing chores. Monday we’re going along for a ride into the city with Shawshank‘s mom. If I had some elastic, I’d make some pants, but I’ll just be an attention whoring weirdo instead.
