Trying isn't cool.

All things considered, that had been a pretty fun weekend.

Okay, so sans gremlin bite, it was unlikely that April would have made those same choices: bondage kind of seemed like a lot of work as a precursor to sex, and if she was going to hook up with someone, she'd rather just skip the middle step and get right to the good part. But it had still been pretty fun, especially as her gremlin-bitten self hadn't really cared about issues of laziness and exerting effort, and hooking up with Eric always made for a good time, so she had no complaints.

Also, she was keeping the leather outfit. Because there was always a chance that she'd get in a mood and want to do that again. So right now, it lay draped over an armchair in her living room, because... well, April didn't know how to wash leather, and anyway, she was kind of comfy on the floor watching Spanish soap operas with her back to the couch, and she didn't want to get up.

In the meantime, she had an untoasted Pop-Tart to eat and was tossing a broken TV remote around for Cliff to catch. This was a good morning.

[[open!]]

April might have hated most things, but there were some simple pleasures that she always enjoyed, and sleeping on the couch was at the top of the list.

The good news was that when she woke up today, she no longer felt antsy and inclined to bang random breakfast-making guys or vampires or whatever or tell random British chicks they were hot. The bad news was that she was, you know, awake.

Begrudgingly, April groaned, got out of bed, affixed Cliff's leash to his collar and took him outside, looking not unlike a zombie. A zombie who wore pajamas.

[[open!]]