I know I’ve been promising to get better about posting more regularly again. And I meant it when I promised it. But my head didn’t agree. I said, “I swear I’m going to post more,” but my head was all like, “Oh, but I have other ideas. I’m going to give you a week of migraines, cluster headaches, and tension headaches. And maybe some caffeine withdrawal headaches. And probably brain tumors or something. And then I’m going to give you postdrome, just for funsies.” Apparently, my head didn’t make that up, and “postdrome” is actually a thing. Basically, my head was like, “Hey, you know what would be fun? After a bunch of pain, let’s be stupid!!” And I totally went along with it. Because stupid is awesome?*
Also, I’m heading into that time of year when I go into a depression, and my creative juices dry up. I get creatively dehydrated. Not even bourbon can quench my creative thirst. It’s coming on a little early this year, due in part, I’m guessing, to all the headbitching. So I run out of interesting things to say and paint and instead spend all of my time binge watching Jersey Shore and complaining that not all three cats are snuggling with me at every single moment of every single day. I either need more cats or a smaller house so that there are less places for the cats I already have to sleep that don’t involve directly touching me.
All mah kittehs on me at the same time. I has the heaven.
On top of that, as I have mentioned in the last two posts, I’m going through a major work transition that’s causing a fair amount of chaos from which I would prefer to hide. I was going to post about that right now, but I’m going to drag this shit out into another post so that I can do the work now, and not have to come up with anything to post about over the next couple days, thus maximizing my binge watching/snuggles time tomorrow and the next day. Fuck you postdrome, I bees smart.
*I was going to insert a clip of Snooki, from Jersey Shore, asking if cherubs were real, but apparently, that little nugget of reality TV gold didn’t register on anyone else’s radar enough to isolate a clip and post it on YouTube. So here’s a transcript I created:
Italian, tour guide, pointing out a fresco: “Cupid, the son of Venus, who will throw the arrow of love…”
Snooki: “So they’re real?”
Tour guide: “What – what do you mean are they real?”
Snooki: “The babies with wings?”
Tour guide: “They are character of mythology.”