It’s morning again. No one asked for this.
I slept yesterday afternoon away. Shawshank booted up the game around lunchtime. I pulled a snuggly, cat-magnet of a blanket up over me, curled up in a ball, and waited. I woke up a few hours later, Chaucer snuggled on my lap. Shawshank was right at the point where I’d last quit.
He handed off the controller, and it was my turn. I played for a couple of hours while he watched. I was just starting a dungeon and wouldn’t be unraveling new storyline discoveries, so he wasn’t very worried about spoilers. In fact, he’s usually happier knowing what he’ll be dealing with when it’s his turn to go through.
Shawshank‘s working morning shifts for the next few days. We’re having tacos for dinner tonight. I’ll fill the morning with my own personal blend of bullshit.
