The last post of my lunch break. Honest 'guv.
Just picturing Jack's moving day. She has no concept of time, due to arthritis of the bum hole. She wakes up at precisely 6.15. Gently, softly leaves yestetdays clothes on, gets the cat out of bed and calls her son in from outside. Smartprice wheat bisks for the cat, and smartprice dog food for the child. She then looks at her 47 boxes of books, that take up the annex in her mansion, adoringly.
Jack sits down on the edge of her bed at 9.15 to put her doc martens on, it is now 1400. The doorbell has been rung by the removal firm, who have come and gone. They shall not return. A note attached with a Swiss army style knife to the door reads "thanks for all that you HAVEN'T done"
This is a disaster, our Smol vertically challenged five foot seven pixie absolutely, positively, has to be out TODAY. A call to her the rapist, and an unfortunately typed space later she informs her child and household pets, including the dead ones they must move her shit. For her mouth crumbles, her arm is ouchy her lovesense vibrator has fallen out.
Oh crumbs.