I Need Friends Who Don’t Mock My Perfect Murder Dreams

Last night I dreamed I was in a store and came across a Jessica Fletcher version of Clue. And then I had a huge debate with myself over purchasing said most-amazing-thing-ever, as I feared someone would have already bought it for me.

I woke up this morning to a world with no Lansbury-esque board games.

(Life is rough.)

Nobody knows this more than Maurice.

Maurice is my new plant.

Also, my dad’s old plant.

Only my dad has warped Maurice and now he can’t stand up on his own, so I must lean him against my kitchen doorway, except when I forget and brush into him and then Maurice reclines throughout my entryway.

Other exciting sights you might have noticed within my entryway include trash (to be taken out whenever I manage to remember it’s trash day, so roughly once a month), a vacuum that should have been put away after use a week ago, and behind that my weedwacker.

Which would be put away except it already is, as it lives there.

(I’m not great at home organization.)