son of a bitch is dug in like an Alabama tick

I gave blood yesterday, and today we spent our eleventh consecutive week making up food for the Conch Shell Deli. I guess when it comes down to it I often enjoy doing things I’m scared to do. Those things, well, not everyone would understand why they scare me, and maybe they seem like very little to someone else, but they are a lot to me.

And on point, I suppose, I should put forth I’m a bit tired. I’m scrambling to complete a few art projects, I’ve sewn two shirts in my spare time (for The Boy), I’ve got a graphic design job (kind of a largish one) with a looming deadline, and going on my tenth year I’ve been cleaning and feeding the family and loving up the cats and kids and trying to be helpmate to my husband and not to act like an asshole.

So I guess what I’m saying is.


I do, however, have time to watch the riff on The Crater Lake Monster, which will commence… NOW.

P.S. Nelsie. At the coffee shop. He is lovely.

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