Ayo, it’s Monday. I woke up and stretched my feet out from under a blanket; Chaucer licked my ankle and any ideas of enjoying more sleep went right out. The skies are cloudy and the coffee is brewing.
Shawshank‘s work-filled weekend is over, and today he can rest. I spent much of the afternoon switching between discussions about Monster Hunter and my feet. He came home last night after work to find the counter and stove ready for him to properly assemble a pan of taco-nachos for dinner. We stuffed ourselves full of salty chips and processed cheese sauce and we liked it. I attempted to enjoy an hour or so soak in the tub, but it was just too hot. I think I lasted about 30 minutes- long enough to shave and scrub my feet.
We’re not doing much today. I’ll assume the human form, but that’s the only promise I’ll make. The only thing set in stone is brunch.
