potato to foal

Good morning, world. It’s another dark one out there. I’ve been up for a little while, but laid in bed trying to figure out if Shawshank was awake, and what the time was without looking at the clock, using only on the cats’ activity levels. I wasn’t far off in my estimation.

I spent way, way too much time playing “Just Dance” yesterday.

Sure, I split it up, but still, it was a lot of dancing. I didn’t set out to make shit into a 3-hour workout, I wasn’t even wearing remotely athletic clothes. I played for over an hour before lunch, then grabbed the poi and streamed some spin time on TikTok. When lunch rolled around, I killed the stream and devoured a cheese sandwich. But I was still in a very dance-y mood, so I loaded up the game again and played for another 90 minutes. I’ve upgraded my title, switching from Potato Dancer to Wobbly Foal.

Shawshank came home from work right as I was looking for a new song, and he played No Man’s Sky for the rest of the afternoon. I snuggled with Chaucer and napped for a little while. It was a good way to finish the week.