Business as Usual.

I've just been so busy lately. Just...so fucking busy I can't even write or read things others have written or keep up a conversation with someone I can only talk online to or even sit down to finish Loco Pantaloons.

Too fucking busy!

I don't like it when I'm this busy. It makes me feel scattered and addle-brained. It's a bad feeling. I've been so busy just running around, buying the things that this household needs that I have no time or energy for anything else. Oh, I know. Woe is me, right? Well when it's 8:37pm and you're at Target contemplating if Rachel Ray or Paula Deen makes a better pots and pans set it's time to just call it a night. That's what I was doing last night. Exhausting.

Money is great and good and powerful and handy because it allows you to provide for your family. Get that growing son of yours a few pairs of pants and a pair of shoes that don't talk when he walks. Get your daughter some bras because apparently she needs them now. Get your youngest a new bed because he jumped to much on his and broke it.

I imagine a world where once you buy something you never have to replace it. What an amazing world that would be. I think most of the money I spend is on stuff that I'm replacing; food, clothes, beds, tv's, etc. etc. ad nauseum. I'm basically just tired of buying this shit!

The good news is that I bought a bunch of stuff for the house that I've been meaning to get. Like hardwood stain and polyurethane to deal with these hideous wood floors. That's going to be a big fucking job. I'm not looking forward to it. Plus I get anxiety just thinking about getting the stain even.

I bought some paint for the walls. A lovely shade of light blue. Got some paint for the dark brown shiny fireplace to paint it an eggshell cream color. Got cabinet paint to take it from boring apartment cabinets that look generic as hell to a cream color with a brown glaze over to look more France, 1900's. I'm basically renovating my upstairs to look more cottage chic, or shabby chic, or French Country, or whatever the hell you want to call it. I basically just hate how my house looks on the inside but have never done anything about it because when you have so much going on in your life, don't fuck around with things if they don't need fixin', ya know? But now as I get older I realize that if I'm not happy in the house I live in then I'm not happy most of the time. Unacceptable. So I'm doing something about it. Slowly but surely.

I'm also doing a split zine with someone who's a big supporter of The F-Bomb and all of my creative projects. Her name's Sarah and she runs Once Upon A Distro. We started talking after Wooden Shoe in Philly started carrying my zine and she had read it and loved it. She put out a request to do a split zine and I responded back and we're both excited for it. She wanted to go with a theme so we both agreed on "firsts."  I've already written the story of my first apartment and now I just have to think about what other stories I want to write and how I can wrangle them in under the "first" theme. :) And also, find the time to do that.

Right now I feel like I'm going to drop down on the floor in a fit of slumber. I'm on my moon, I'm starting to come down with a cold, and I just can't fucking sleep correctly lately and I don't know why. I feel like I need to power sleep for 15 or so hours to reboot my sleep. Maybe I'll just sleep today and give the dishes and laundry the bird. I'm too tired for this.

I was going to write something much more meaningful and regale you with witticisms and funny things but this is all you get from me today. Maybe the next time I write I'll be much less whiny.