Choose your own $falcon

[falcongrrl]

(swiped from da_lj with permission, with certain key details changed for authenticity's sake)

You've woken up, showered, had breakfast. The day stretches in front of you, a sunny Friday that feels more like May in Florida than February. There's lots that you could be doing right now. You decide to:

[stay in front of the computer, writing snippets for rowyn's pbem and anything else that catches your fancy]

[fold the massive piles of clean laundry you've been procrastinating on, then work on cleaning the kitchen and dining room]

[take a nap]


Rules: the first person to comment with their choice above can decide what happens to our Peregrine character. Put the choice in the title of the comment. At the end of the comment, add 3 or more choices for what can happen next, like this one has. You can make more than one choice; put them in separate comments.

Oh, please don't kill me? I won't enjoy that. Thanks.

Comments

[la-cowntessa.livejournal.com]

I'd go with number two. But that's just me. Just adding to say -- I feel a lot better when I don't have a ton of shit waiting around for me to do.

[gleefulfreak.livejournal.com]

Can I vote for a combination of the first two options? Set a timer for 20 minutes, go fold laundry and stuff till the timer goes off, then set it for 20 more minutes and sit in front of the computer, lather rinse repeat.

Since I probably can't, I'll leave the field open to others. :D

[ladyperegrine.livejournal.com]

Well, yeah, that's what I do...but the idea is to make it more like a Choose Your Own Adventure book.

[gleefulfreak.livejournal.com]

Yeah. I wasn't sure whether it might be a "live-action" choose-your-own-adventure, so to speak, and I didn't want to doom you, in real life, to either of interminable cleaning or interminable goofing off. :D

[fold the massive piles of clean laundry you've been procrastinating on]

[ladyperegrine.livejournal.com]

The laundry seems to grow exponentially; you suspect it of reproducing under itself when you're not looking. The idea is at once fascinating and appalling; how could you explain that to your children? You sigh, getting a bit frustrated with your task, and decide to:

[go back to the computer]
[peek under the laundry to see what horrors await there]
[move into the kitchen to see what horrors await *there*]


(the idea is to respond with a choice and then to add three more choices so that it creates a fictional story)

[peek under the laundry]

[beetiger.livejournal.com]

Gingerly, you start lifting pieces of laundry, folding them neatly into three baskets, one for you, one for your husband, one for your kids. It's mind-numbing, but productive, and you feel good about it. Digging for the partner to an unmatched Princess Ariel sock, you pull out a sequined skirt, lined with seashells and sparkling bits of seaglass. It doesn't belong to you or your daughter. In fact, you can't imagine it belongs to anyone you know. You:

[ignore the skirt and keep folding the laundry]
[put the skirt on]
[call a friend whom you think might wear that sort of thing]

[put the skirt on]

[shaterri.livejournal.com]

The skirt's a remarkably good fit; you even catch yourself twirling in the mirror. Of course, it doesn't go with the slightly frumpier top you've got on at all. Still, that's at least remediable. You:

[decide to take a short chunk of afternoon off and wander to the mall in search of a somewhat-matching top]
[decide to take a long chunk of afternoon off and wander to the beach in search of somewhat-matching accessories]
[decide that the things you have to do around the house are more important and accept your mismatchedness for the rest of the day]

[decide to take a long chunk of the afternoon off and wander to the beach in search of...]

[ladyperegrine.livejournal.com]

Actually, the skirt doesn't look so bad with your black bathing suit. After arranging the appropriate childcare, you decide to go ahead and drive the hour and a half to your favorite beach. When you get there, you park and jog down to the water. While scoping the beach for accessories, you see:

[a dolphin]
[an iridescent shell of some sort]
[a long-haired, possibly attractive person of indeterminate gender]

[momentrabbit.livejournal.com]

[take a nap] - turn to page 73.

You wander back into the bedroom, and the bed looks so comforting and inviting that you just can't resist. So you strip down to your skivvies and hop back between the sheets, pulling the comforter up close and delighting in the tactile pleasure of the cool fabric warming around you - not to mention the sheer bliss of not having anything else that needs to be done right now. After a period of napping and a few odd dream fragments, your attention turns to the alarm clock.

[You've been napping for almost a half-hour.]

[You've napped away the whole day!]

[Hey, it's half-past Mango! Better get up and butter the fruitbats.]

[you've been napping for almost a half-hour]

[ladyperegrine.livejournal.com]

The sheets feel so pleasant against bare skin; you're surprised to notice that not much time has passed. After you check the clock, you decide to:

[nap in the euphemistic sense. mmmmmmm.....]
[go back to sleep. those were some awesome dreams.]
[get up, go into the kitchen, and make a snack]