Tuesday, 21 April 2020

Oh, I'm kidding. We actually have a ridiculously cohesive militarized home menu plan.

Down the imaginary hopscotch-blocks on the sidewalk, making up the game as I go along.

Quiet-quiet-LOUD! I shout, two feet on the final rectangle that has a capital L on it.

What are you doing?

Making my brain tired so it will sleep. 

Is it working?

Of course not. Does it ever?

Vodka shots?

Maybe later. I'm winning. 

Winning what?


Maybe a chance to be together-enough to join you all at dinner. 

I think you've done it. 

Have I, though? 

Until you start drawing actual blocks on the kitchen floor, yes. 

Oh. Good to know. That was next. I roll up the sidewalk into my brain, snapping it out so it rolls all the way up in a rush and follow PJ to the butler's pantry to find some stuff for dinner.