Another late night meant another late morning with me assembling breakfast while Anabelle picked out random cooking shows.
How a movie anything over an hour and forty can be “too long” when regular all day Chopped marathons are just dandy is something I’ll never understand.
Overall it was a slow, maintenance filled day. She helped by doing a load of laundry while I was putting a past one away. The fish tank filter was something else in severe need of cleaning, so I addressed that while she was playing her flute, giving me an excuse to be in the playroom and listen in.
The one place I could not go was downstairs when she exercised. I thought we’d each be on one machine and watch something together. However, much like her Dad, which is why I have machines and not a gym membership, Anabelle needs to be alone to exercise. My reasons are based on being kind of grunty and smelly. She has far more ladylike reasons concerning privacy and such.
I finished with the laundry and had an extended argument with the Target website trying to order blu rays of The Killing Joke and the unrated Alien vs. Predator collection. Besides arguing with me, the site was arguing with itself. Killing Joke came out the next day. The site realized it couldn’t fulfill the preorder guarantee of delivery on release date, but also wouldn’t let me wave that feature by selecting shipping type. Instead it tried to convince me that New Jersey had an active ban on Batman films.
When I placed the order the next night, there was no issue and the discs arrived before the week ended.
Based on family plans and family bonding going on, Anabelle changed her plans for the final week of the Ad-veeeeen-tures *Jazz Hands* and chose to spend more time at Grandma's.
I brought her over to Kristen’s and filled the air mattress once more before leaving.
With the basement free, I could do my own exercising, followed by a bit of writing while making do with leftovers from our taco night in a bowl of sadness.
Though across town, Anabelle brightened my mood when I found she’d added
“FUN TIMES!!! J” to my rather uneventful notes of the day.
I finished my Doom Patrol comic, breaking my brain a little further.
I also started on an Aliens vs. Predator comic I found in the back of my closet that I’d bought the summer before and forgotten about. I didn’t realize until I opened it that the AvP trade was the first of four volumes. Luckily, it sat under some old comic bags for long enough that I was able to pick up the rest of the series as library remainders cheap online. In the words of Ray Romano, sometimes this stupidity thing pays off.