Gothic Granola

I bought some lotion the other day. Kiss My Face’s “Super-Hydrating Moisturizer” in coconut variety. I had a coupon and my hands are cracking from all the hand-washing I do and from working in a cold environment (yeah, nobody wants to work those registers by the door). In hindsight, I reflected, as I rubbed the thick cream on my hands before putting on my Halloween sock-gloves before bed, I could’ve saved myself a couple bucks and put coconut oil on my hands. Granted, my sheets would’ve become uber-greasy but my chapped hands might knit back together, thus, uh, lubricated.

Maximus, the male of my aunt and uncle’s pair of cats, likes to hang out with me when I meditate in the morning.  When I switched from exercising on the ground floor to the top floor of the house (gotta follow the WiFi, man), he became confused and meowed loudly at me.  Max caught on soon enough and knows to find me upstairs.