Leggings: my stretchy soulmates

Cowboy was up and out the door to work at 6:45 a.m.
I felt terrible for the man.
He was just shuffling slowly.

Since he woke me up, I crawled out of bed too.
I had the house cleaned up by 8 a.m.
There wasn’t much to clean.
As long as it’s just us and we keep up with the kitchen, the house stays neat
We did leave the kitchen dirty when we went to bed, and that’s what took the longest.

Good thing I straightened up.
Peacock and Gealach showed up at 8:57.
They stayed until 10.
We didn’t do much. 
Just sat and looked at each other.
That’s kind of our thing.

I fixed Gealach breakfast.
She seemed hungry this morning.
She actually ate my oatmeal.
No one eats my oatmeal.

Heron headed to his girlfriend’s at 10 a.m.
He and Peacock pulled out of the drive together.
He took my dog.
Oh, yeah, my dog.
Possession is 9/10ths of the law. That giant, drooly, stinking dog of his has been sleeping at my feet for a year or more now.
The house is terribly quiet without her barking constantly.
Duffy is an old man.
He’s a fairly quiet dog.
He and the dog should be back tomorrow or Tuesday. I forgot to ask.

The rest of the day has been rather uneventful and boring, boring, boring.
Badger has stayed in her room, which left me to entertain myself.
With the house clean, that meant mostly the computer.

I got a wild hair, and now I can’t find my bed.
I pulled out every stitch of clothing I own.
The plan was to sort through and see what I actually own.
Let’s just say I have an obsession with leggings and black t‑shirts.

When one looks like an oversized mini beluga, leggings are a gal’s best friend.

The day has gone by surprisingly fast.

Cowboy got home at 6:50 p.m.
He’s stretched out in his recliner, and I doubt he’ll move before bedtime.
Bedtime will come early for him again.
They had been weebly‑wobbling about working tomorrow.
Looks like they decided. Yep, y’all are working.

I need to get off here and go finish up my mess so he can go to bed.
I’ve got, oh shoot, a good two more hours of figuring it out.
See, Cowboy has the closet.
He has a ridiculous number of button‑up shirts and jeans.
So my clothes are in dressers in the bedroom proper.

I’ll have to smack my own hand anytime the urge hits to buy more leggings or t‑shirts.
I’m more ridiculous than Cowboy at this point.

My legging obsession will have to go in storage boxes.
Luckily, they can sit on the blanket box.
Will it look good?
No.
Does it matter?
No.

Cowboy and I are the only ones in the bedroom, and it’s neat.
It’s just, you know, in boxes. 
And yes, I do wear them.
No, Badger. I’m not ready to get rid of any.
Bah.
Let’s stop procrastinating and get back to work.