Fact of the matter is, this is early for us. I mean, February’s not even half way over yet and most of our Christmas stuff is actually down and put away.
…thinking about it, maybe that’s why Jeff likes it here so much. Because we leave our Christmas decorations up for so long.
Jeff considers any holiday that isn’t Christmas to be an inferior holiday.
Easter and Thanksgiving get a pass.
But yeah. This was our Friday morning. My mom goes downstairs, I’m just getting out of the shower, and –
“DREW!!!!”
Yep, our basement was flooding. Yet again.
Three different puddles had appeared all around the basement floor, with no apparent source of the water. Like it was coming out of the walls or something.
Then I opened the door that led to outside, and surprise! The outdoor drain was completely submerged. It must have gotten clogged or overwhelmed or something, so instead of the water draining, it was backing up into the house.
It’s all okay now – we managed to get the drain to start going again, and the water’s all gone from the basement. But still. A very fraught morning. Nothing we need to repeat again.
No one wants to be the Christmas house, Jeff. That would just take the magic out of the holiday itself.
Also, holy crap, Valentine’s Day is next week. Dang, 2018, slow down a bit please!
Sorry for not posting yesterday. Scanner was being a butt.
Lars is right, though. Fairly certain those windows are worth more than a few glass balls, Eliza.
Actually, I’m fairly certain Jeff knows that, too. Which is why he hasn’t tried breaking in just yet.
Alternate title: “Panic! in the Piano Room.”
Dealing with Animal Control is never fun.
“Yes, Officer, everything’s fine.”
“No, Officer, the red panda did not escape from the zoo – she lives here.”
“Yes, so does the walrus.”
“No, Officer, we’re just trying to take Christmas. Thank you.”
Jeff can be a bit territorial when it comes to the backyard. Especially when deer are involved. Everyone else is mostly welcome.
Side note: the weed that this comic is based on is no more. RIP terrifyingly tall weed. We’ll miss you.
…kinda sorta not really.
Really, which of us haven’t accidentally subjected our friends to supernatural danger, whether it be killer stuffed animals or the vengeful spirit of a defunct website?
…no one? Okay then.
Conclusion Friday!
Decided to clean up my room this past week. And yes, I found ALL of these scattered around my room. What I was doing with all those tissue boxes, I have no idea. Maybe practicing to be a hoarder or something. I must’ve had at least 8 or 9. Not sure what I was planning on doing with them. Just leave ’em there to collect dust, I guess. Same with the dryer sheets. Those little buggers were everywhere. And scarily slippery if you’re on a hardwood surface.
Really, I chalk it up to laziness/maybe not caring about how clean my room is. It’s been that way for a long time – even back to when my brother and I shared a room. His side would be neat, and my side looked like an explosion of books and clothes. And it definitely got worse when I got my own room. The layer of water bottles? Eh, just step around them. The random tissues strewn about? Whatever. But there always comes a point where I have to look around and think, “Huh. Maybe it’s time to clean.” Such as this past week. And when I think about it, in the past cleaning up usually means just shove all the clothes on my chair and books into random piles, whilst ignoring the trash. Which is kinda gross, I’m aware of that. And I do need to be more diligent in the future.
After bulldozing through my room, I looked around and realized – I need to do some redecorating, starting with the rug. It’s gotten to the point where the right word to describe it is “groady.” Plus, it’s the same rug left behind by the people here before us, so it’s best that I get rid of it. Also, could move some things around on the wall. It’s pretty much looked the same since I was 13, so it’s time for a upgrade, perhaps. Some new prints, maybe, finally hang up that cool poster I got from the VMFA, who knows? Possibilities are endless.
And yes, I really don’t know how old that Sunny D bottle was. I haven’t touched the stuff since high school. So at most, it had to be six years old. Eccccch.
