Good morning, people of the Internet. It’s Saturday morning. I would like to be a child on the floor with footy-pjs and a bowl of cereal watching My Little Pony, but I’m not.
Shawshank is at work, and I’m on the couch with the cats. Dateline is on TV for the moment. I can’t reach the remote without disturbing Chaucer, otherwise I’d change it to something else.
Ah, but I need a refill on my coffee. He’s going to be an unhappy cat.
Yep. He is.
I didn’t touch my fabric yesterday. I thought Shawshank had a closing shift, and the plan was loud music in the earbuds, a few deep pulls on a bowl, and see what came out of my brain. That won’t happen when he’s 10ft away from me. Instead, I watched Shawshank play the current game for a couple of hours while I scrolled on my phone. Then it was my turn to run through some of the game. He played some after dinner as well, while I was in the tub.
He’ll be home this afternoon, and we’ll make some more progress in the game. I should put some clothes on and pretend I exist.
