literally. not figuratively.

Good morning, bitches. It’s Thursday. That means nothing. I was awake a little while after Shawshank took off for work. I actually thought he had overslept; one of the cats was in the wrong spot and I thought Shawshank was still in bed.

We left TinyTown yesterday, and headed out to Slightly BiggerTown and its thrift shop. We arrived just a bit early, so we made a quick stop at the pharmacy to pick up some stuff. Since the thrift shop wasn’t open yet, and it wasn’t quite lunchtime, we killed time and grabbed sandwiches to bring home. Unfortunately, the thrift shop had nothing super interesting. Shawshank found a few things I liked, but none of them were things I absolutely needed. The salt and pepper shakers shaped like corn on the cob were great, but unneeded. We had a tee shirt for my mom, but I put it back. I couldn’t see a point to holding onto a $1 shirt to mail down at some point in the nebulous future.

After lunch, I tried to stay awake. Eventually, my brain said “this party sucks, we out” and demanded a nap. I balled up half of my fleecy blankie as a pillow, and covered myself with the rest. Chaucer eventually decided he also needed a nap with the fleece, and settled up by my face. Like, if he had been any closer, he would have literally been sleeping on my head.

Shawshank‘s working this morning, and won’t be home until after lunch. His mom is stopping by this afternoon, as we have a package here for her. I’ll do shit in between,

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