Tired cat (is tired).
It turns out that there's a level of sleep deprivation at which you become so tired that you just can't sleep anymore. I'd say that this was super-awesome except for the part where excuse me, no. I miss sleeping. I miss Sundays where "morning" consisted of the five minutes between waking up and noon. These days, I'm lucky if the first digit on the clock is above seven when my eyes open and the day begins.
I spent most of today-no, seriously, most of today-accidentally walking six miles up Clayton Road. I was looking for a friend's barbecue, only I'd never been to his house before, so I didn't realize I'd managed to overshoot until I ran out of Clayton and rammed into something called "Marsh Creek Road." Mom informs me that this is the road where we keep the maximum security prison. Gee. That's encouraging. I literally walked all the skin off my ankles and bled all over the insides of my shoes. Thankfully, it's still warm enough that I can get away with wearing my flip-flops for a few days. I am sadly not amused.
My current Big Art Project involves the design of four possible bookmark designs for Borderlands Books. Because I am insane, I'm basically finishing all four options, and then I'm going to let them choose. No, I don't know what I'm going to do with the other three. Probably sell them to buy replacements for all the damn markers this project is killing. So far, it's claimed at least five markers (all from the old set, but still). I need to go to the art store again tomorrow, this time to buy a replacement for my valiant old Peacock Blue, which has died the good death and will now head for art supply heaven, where no one will ever do this shit to it again.
In between the enormous attacks of inking, I'm finishing art cards and mailing them off one and two at a time. This is why I never give a delivery time for these things; because they exist to distract me, not to unseat my various crazy obsessions. Given the number of crazy obsessions I tend to have, the last thing I need is another one.
So anyway, not dead, really tired, need new markers.
Now we must rinse.
I spent most of today-no, seriously, most of today-accidentally walking six miles up Clayton Road. I was looking for a friend's barbecue, only I'd never been to his house before, so I didn't realize I'd managed to overshoot until I ran out of Clayton and rammed into something called "Marsh Creek Road." Mom informs me that this is the road where we keep the maximum security prison. Gee. That's encouraging. I literally walked all the skin off my ankles and bled all over the insides of my shoes. Thankfully, it's still warm enough that I can get away with wearing my flip-flops for a few days. I am sadly not amused.
My current Big Art Project involves the design of four possible bookmark designs for Borderlands Books. Because I am insane, I'm basically finishing all four options, and then I'm going to let them choose. No, I don't know what I'm going to do with the other three. Probably sell them to buy replacements for all the damn markers this project is killing. So far, it's claimed at least five markers (all from the old set, but still). I need to go to the art store again tomorrow, this time to buy a replacement for my valiant old Peacock Blue, which has died the good death and will now head for art supply heaven, where no one will ever do this shit to it again.
In between the enormous attacks of inking, I'm finishing art cards and mailing them off one and two at a time. This is why I never give a delivery time for these things; because they exist to distract me, not to unseat my various crazy obsessions. Given the number of crazy obsessions I tend to have, the last thing I need is another one.
So anyway, not dead, really tired, need new markers.
Now we must rinse.