Good vs. Evil
Woke up this morning (unfortunately) only to discover that some time during the night, I had been attacked by what can only have been a gargantuan fucking spider with fangs the size of Aragorn's wingis. An Evil Arachnid, the likes of which epic tales of battle could be written, although I am quite sure the beast has since suffered grave injuries and is now lying somewhere far away, breathing it's last malicious breath. I however, still bear the mark on my thigh, a dire itchy festering wound which shall never fully heal. A festering wound that surprisingly enough has not killed me yet. This is most likely due to my extremely high constitution which is at least an 18 or 19, and that gives me like, a +4 modifier or something for my saving throw against poison. That is why I survived the bout with Ebola, and why I am not at this very moment, writing my last entry while dying in the hospital.
The day progressively worsened, until during the last hour at work, I was left sitting at my desk, staring blankly at my technician who was trying to explain to me the kind of labels he needed for the 110 blocks. I just know he was secretly wondering why exactly they insist on continuing my employment, since I am plainly so abysmally incompetent that the only position I should be entitled to hold is that of The Chick Who Cleans The Bathroom.
When I arrived home, I took the cats out in the backyard and assessed the damage to my plants from the mighty hailstorm of 2004. The only thing to somehow miraculously survive unscathed was my pomegranate and my dahlias.
After I cleaned up the yard a little, I herded all the cats inside. All of them except for Monster, who insisted on playing hide and seek under the rose bushes. Finding myself at the end of my rope of patience, I stepped into the flowers to grab him, and impaled my foot upon a hideous thorny bramble.
Luckily, I have a fairly high charisma with at least a +1 modifier, so when I yelled all those really foul obscenities at an incredibly high volume, I am sure my neighbors simply overlooked it and will shortly be bringing me baskets of cookies and sugary treats.
The day progressively worsened, until during the last hour at work, I was left sitting at my desk, staring blankly at my technician who was trying to explain to me the kind of labels he needed for the 110 blocks. I just know he was secretly wondering why exactly they insist on continuing my employment, since I am plainly so abysmally incompetent that the only position I should be entitled to hold is that of The Chick Who Cleans The Bathroom.
When I arrived home, I took the cats out in the backyard and assessed the damage to my plants from the mighty hailstorm of 2004. The only thing to somehow miraculously survive unscathed was my pomegranate and my dahlias.
After I cleaned up the yard a little, I herded all the cats inside. All of them except for Monster, who insisted on playing hide and seek under the rose bushes. Finding myself at the end of my rope of patience, I stepped into the flowers to grab him, and impaled my foot upon a hideous thorny bramble.
Luckily, I have a fairly high charisma with at least a +1 modifier, so when I yelled all those really foul obscenities at an incredibly high volume, I am sure my neighbors simply overlooked it and will shortly be bringing me baskets of cookies and sugary treats.