The sun is barely up, and I’m already having a rough morning. First, I fell asleep in a hoody because I was chilly when I was chatting with Shawshank and watching a show before sleep. As a result, I woke up sweaty and clammy again and gross. While it wasn’t nearly as bad as the night I collapsed, it was another night of my brain yelling WHAT TEMPERATURE SHOULD MY BODY BE AT?!?!?! Even though that was hours ago, I feel this feeling going to be an all-day affair.
Then, I was up a couple of times with Mal puking. Poor little dude is constipated as hell. He had been doing better with all his tummy troubles. Now, he won’t reliably eat out of his own dish*, preferring to wait until Chaucer leaves his bowl and eating it. Consequently, I can’t get him to reliably eat his powdered medicine. I put the powder in Chaucer’s food now, too, and hope for the best.
Oh, and there’s no coffee in the house. If there is, I haven’t found it. In the meantime, I’m drinking tea, but I’m not pleased with it.
I took advantage of the sunshine and did some painting yesterday while Brian mopped and vacuumed the floors. One of the two paintings is turning out ok, but I’m not pleased with the 3rd version of Mom‘s house. I’m not pleased with the brickwork (bricks too big) or the roof (seriously, wtf is up with these roof lines). I’ll finish it, because that’s what I do, but it’s rather meh. I think I’m just a little bored with Mom’s house, understandably, and I might take some of the stuff I’ve got ready to paint and put some lines on paper today.
I might do some laundry today, it really depends on how ambitious I feel. Mom is coming home tonight, and I really should wash my shit today so she can do hers tomorrow. Oh well. Let’s do Tuesday.
*No idea why. I’ve tried switching dishes, but nope. He just doesn’t want to eat in his spot anymore.
