Good morning, love. I woke up to fog blanketing the neighborhood, and the attention span of a Goldfish.
The crackers, not the animal. C’est la vie.
Today is Shawshank‘s birthday. I feel bad I’m not there while he opens his gifts. I wanted to be. I’m comforting myself with the knowledge I bought the gifts early enough for him to actually open them on his birthday this year. I’m bad like that. We’re not talking about it because I get very upset.
Our calendars are still all discombobulated, because Mom just thought today was Thursday. I have no idea why we’re like this.
Nothing happened yesterday. We went to PT, and I played Dragon’s Dogma: Dark Arisen in the waiting room. I’ve decided it’s Breath of the Wild, if Breath of The Wild looked like Skyrim and everything I hated about Breath of The Wild was fixed. I spent the afternoon being all stabby with my weird, corpse-y Indica and her sidekick, Sincemilla.
But…. yesterday was a boring day, otherwise. I’m going to try to do better today. I need to finish a painting. If the heat is too bad, I’ll work on some sketches in the bathroom.
I will do things.