Allo, allo. It’s Monday, and we’re sloths today. I’ve been up, off and on, since before sunrise. I couldn’t get comfortable. I was a bit too warm, and Chaucer had wedged himself all up in my business. Eventually, Shawshank woke up and Pippin demanded playtime, and here we are.
I don’t intend to put on real clothes today. Y’all are lucky I even made the effort to have underpants on. There’s no need for real clothing, because we’re not leaving the house. We might go on the patio and pet Zeppelin while we’re out smoking. We don’t need to put on real clothes for that, no one cares.
Except for the gossipy post office lady. She cares. I ordered some Christmas presents and had them sent addressed to me. She finally noticed and held a package hostage until Shawshank “verified” the new occupant. She is very keen on meeting me. She called Shawshank‘s mom while we were at Shady Acres yesterday, and spent about 15 minutes trying different approaches to get the scoop about me.
Thankfully, Shawshank‘s mom wouldn’t give in to the prying. She told the gossipy biddy if she wanted any information, she really should talk to me or Shawshank. She knows what’s up. When they moved to town a few years ago, the gossip lady chatted her up, all friendly. Later, his mom read a whole write-up about them in the neighboring town paper.
Hermit Girl absolutely does not want to be in the newspaper.
BUT
If I do somehow end up in the paper, Mom wants me to send her a copy. That’s such a mom thing.
So….. SLOTH MODE ACTIVATED. We’re going to wrap and pack the presents to send to my mom, and we’ll mail them out tomorrow. Shawshank‘s going to make us a nice brunch, as usual. By the time brunch is finished and the dishes are done, it’ll be time for him to settle in with Critical Role. I’ll probably play some video games and post some spicy shit. Relax today, we have a busy day tomorrow.
