Good morning, y’all. Happy whatever day this is because perpetually changing schedules mean I have no reference points anymore. Chaucer has snuggled up with me. Pippin is sleeping in her pet bed fort hidden in the corner. I’m waiting for the sun to come up enough for me to put on my makeup.
We had a good day off yesterday, as expected. Shawshank‘s order of Christmas presents came in, and he picked it up after lunch. He quickly hid out in the bedroom to wrap things, only for me to unwrap all of them 10 minutes later. He brought out one for me to enjoy while he wrapped the others: a ribbon stick. I had one when I was 11, and I enjoyed it just as much at 46. I unwrapped the GREATEST SOCKS EVER*, some much needed makeup sponges, and a pair of lacy anklets. He also gave me a pack of toe rings, some toe-less grippy socks, and another pair of socks that spreads my toes out in the most delicious way.
I’m hopeful that his things will be here next week.
We’d had a pre-sleep discussion on Wednesday night, where Shawshank insisted he was going to call and schedule a haircut for me. I – highly toasted and half asleep at the time – didn’t fight. My last thought was “neither of us will remember this conversation in the morning”. He remembered and scheduled my appointment as soon as he saw the stylist’s car in front of her shop. He was lucky to score her last open appointment until after the new year. The stylist apologized for making me wait an extra 15 minutes. I hadn’t been for a professional cut since at least 2019, the extra wait wasn’t a problem. I ended up with a decent trim to chop off all the hair I killed last Spring.
Well, the sun is up. Let’s get human.
* Discord friends aware of the spicy gig say I need to incorporate the socks into a photo shoot. Shawshank suggested The Kids in the Hall‘s Chicken Lady. Another friend said Sexy Baba Yaga. HUT OF BROWN, NOW SIT DOWN!
