rejectomorph | Reset Forty-Six, Day Eighteen

It took me all this time to get around to remembering that I didn't get around to writing an entry about what might have happened on Friday, and now it's so long ago that I don't remember anything. There was probably dinner, which was probably a sandwich, and I believe there was mail in the actual mailbox, and I think I read a couple of stories in a book of cat tales. Then I got up way too early today, and need a nap now, and probably won't eat dinner, but if I get up again in a few hours there should be another entry and maybe a bowl of soup. My head itches and I wish I'd taken a shower. Goodness gracious, I'm ridiculous.