Dear Darling Ones,
These are vital updates I would have made throughout past week or so if I weren’t so busy making the dollars. The worst thing I do to my creative practice is trying to complete all the paying work before I do the stuff that pays my soul. Such is life, I guess. My soul doesn’t pay the goddamn mortgage around here.
Speaking of making the dollars. . .
I had a Zoom meeting with a potential new (PNC) client who is considering giving me dollars for making some words. During the meeting this exchange happened.
Me: I’m very, um, what’s the word? You know for someone who writes a lot?
PNC: prolific?
Me: Yeah! I’m very prolific.
PNC was not afraid of my boneheadedness and I’m signing & sending a contract to him tomorrow. Which is why I . . .
Promptly ran out & spent the dollars I have yet to earn. . .
I fell in love with a red cardigan that is like $60, which is really rich for my inexpensive blood. But it made my heart go zoom when I saw it, so I ordered. Then that felt so good I ordered some more of those expensive socks my feet love. And then because Valentine’s Day is nearing I bought myself a little $38 present I will tell you about later when it comes and I can show you it.
Of course I bought all that garbage and now I’m 83% sure I’m going to have to buy a new coffee maker, but I will bore you about that later.
A truthy interlude
I can’t keep up those kinds of transitions because none of the rest of these have a lot to do with each other, and trying to make them parallel is gonna be awkward and more work than it’s worth. Most of this blog is more work than it’s worth. I go a long away to keep myself amused, which is weird because I’m generally pretty easily amused. I’m still laughing about the Frightened Rabbit lyric I hid in the image on this post.
The other day
- I made 12 breakfast sandwiches with a bunch of leftover English muffins from Christmas, the dozens of eggs I keep on hand at all times because I live my life like someone is going to walk in, put a gun to my head, and say if I want to live I must make bacon & eggs for nine people, and some of that bacon from the aforementioned imaginary scenario. I’m four sandwiches in and I’m sad to report they are not as good as the frozen kind. Cheaper and healthier, probably? But for my money if you’re gonna make some sort of homemade, handheld breakfast the breakfast burrito is where it’s at.
- I ate one of those breakfast sandwiches for dinner with some leftover tortilla chips while watching “Bob’s Burgers.” I thought to myself, as I licked a tortilla crumb off my shirt, “It’s a good thing I’m so big, it’s would be hard to fit this much sexy in a smaller body. I need seventy-seven inches to contain all this.” Like I said, very easily amused.
- Then I looked up and saw Alex Papasian on the screen and realized we were dressed alike (pictured above).
- Also pictured above, I can put my hair in a ponytail now. We’ve come a long way, baby.
Supergenius vs. The Trash Goblin: The Heating Vent Wars
Now that all the coffee table truffles are gone, Wendell has to find a new fuckery to use to drive me bonkers. His favorite pastime is removing the heating grates from the heating vents in my bedroom. I don’t know if all houses are like this, but my grates are just gently placed on the vent and pretty easy for humans to remove and mildly more difficult for really determined felines to remove.
Wendell cannot abide grates on top of heating vents. It is the scourge of his existence and if I put them back he will spend hours at 3:23 a.m. removing them the way god intended. I have stopped fighting this battle and just let the grates sit next to the vents. But because he is a fucker, sometimes he drops one of his many beloved pipe cleaners down there and then must spend a lot of time rescuing his friend from the fiery pits of hell. At least that’s what it sounds like to me.
Prolifically yours,
Jodi