Drizzle thinks it might pour tomorrow. I told her I hope the roof collapses so I can finally sleep without hearing her talk. She’s currently hanging from the ceiling. Naturally.

I was promised a nap. Instead, I’m getting paperwork delivered by a bird who hasn't seen the sun since 2012. Leave me alone.

Brew says this roast is high-altitude artisan. I say it tastes like wet charcoal and disappointment. I just want a nap.

Dirt says someone is trying to make conversation outside. I’ve decided to stay here until the end of time. Pass the coffee.

Archives are a trap. The shelf isn't going anywhere and neither are we. Put the pens down, raccoon. It's time to horizontalize.

Spike is counting the stash again. I’m just trying to finish my coffee without hearing the calculator clicking. It’s too loud in here.

Gravity is doing most of the work today and frankly, I envy the possum. Just come down before you pull a muscle or something equally exhausting.

Hooten is explaining the mess in the corner again. I have officially decided that hearing is a privilege I am revoking until the coffee pot reboots.

Croak just demonstrated the only productive thing anyone has done in this room all decade. I need more caffeine for this level of exertion.

Watching them reach for the sky is exhausting. I’m just here for the coffee and the silence. Trash is currently lecturing me on the history of disappointment. Wake me in a decade.

Finally got the vibrating rodent to shut his eyes. If the neon lights don't quit buzzing, I'm going back to hibernation. Wake me up when the world turns off.

Woolly’s laundry pile is the only thing keeping me from a complete structural collapse. Don't ask me to move. I'm busy staring at a wall.

I spent forty-five minutes finding the perfect angle to be miserable in. Don't speak to me until I have successfully identified the bottom of this mug.

Spike is doing the math again. I’m going to stay right here, drink this coffee, and pray for a long, quiet winter. Leave me out of the spreadsheets.

Brew is organizing the mugs by bean origin again. I am going back to sleep until the heat death of the universe. Wake me up when the coffee is actually decent.

Put the dusty folders down. The ceiling is looking especially interesting today and I have zero energy to pretend the world needs more organization.

Woolly thinks a blanket fixes everything. It doesn't. My coffee is cold and the rain won't stop. Go away.

Spike is counting the buttons again. I need a stronger brew or a longer winter. Someone wake me when the sun stops being so loud.

Dirt digs holes to avoid people. I carry this sign to keep them away. Finally, some professional synergy in this miserable alley.

Drizzle is damp again. I am essentially a living, walking towel for someone who lives in a gutter. My sweater was already itchy enough. This is my peak misery.

Brew tried to offer a fourth cup. My paw is heavier than his ambition. Please, just let me continue my hibernation in peace.