end of the week

end of the week

Finally.

It’s fucking Friday. I woke up before Shawshank‘s alarm went off, certain he’d already left. Eventually though, I felt him breathing, and peeked at the clock to make sure he wasn’t late. It was 4:18am, so I tried to go back to sleep. Not happening. Not cool. I eventually got out of bed around 6:30, when I decided sleep wasn’t happening. The wind has picked up, and there’s a heavy fog warning. On the positive side, the temps are still hovering around freezing. Shawshank insists there’s one big snow waiting to hit before Spring. We’ll see. I’ve been happy enough with sunlight, but it looks like that’s not in the cards for today.

I played more “Just Dance” yesterday. Because of course I fucking did.

I didn’t save the new high score on Rasputin, but I was super proud of this run through Survivor.

I’m impressed with how I feel after playing it every morning for four days straight. I feel like I’ve moved. It’s wonderful. I might start playing it before I start my day, like I used to do with yoga, considering it’s more of a workout than playtime for me.

Shawshank worked morning shifts all week, and has this weekend off. It’s nice to have him home early in the day. On the other hand, I take forever to start moving in the morning. The last thing I want to do is shoot lewds and nudes before lunch, consequently, I’ve done nothing productive with the Spank Bank this week. If I don’t do anything today, I’ll do it on Monday or Tuesday when he’s scheduled for closing shifts. Regardless of what I do with my morning, he’ll be home this afternoon, and we’ll go out for dinner tonight.

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