I'm on vacation from my day job for about a week. I asked for a huge chunk of time off at the end of the year, and they were all like-- yeah... no. B/c of closing out the books and other dumb stuff.
So I said, ok how about I take a week off starting RIGHT NOW.
And then I did.
I got a chance to do some collaging today, which I always find incredibly soothing. There's something about cutting up paper and gluing it back down that speaks to me.
I've been bouncing from crisis to crisis for what seems like forever now. As soon as I get one thing squared away, something else whacks me in the face.
I think what I'm trying to say is-- it's almost November and 2013 has kind of blown.
I made huge leaps forward in showing my art. I've actually had shows going for almost the entire year. (HOLLA!)
But man, it's hard to feel properly happy about that when everything else seems so out of control.
Family issues, work stress, FUCKING BEDBUGS, sick cats, family in the hospital, back problems, trying to quit smoking and repeatedly failing (stress!), getting threatened by randos on the internet, fighting with people I care about, uncontrollable panic attacks... It just never fucking quits.
I thought our newest cat might have ringworm, and I swear to god, I wanted to just walk around Philly screaming randomly. Or maybe I could lay down on the floor and make everyone walk around me, with a sign on my back that says "I give up. YOU WIN THIS ROUND, LIFE."
But Hodge does not have ringworm, just the world's worst case of fleas.
I am determined to see that as a positive, considering the alternative.
So I'm sleeping a lot and hatewatching MasterChef, which is pretty awful. I'm going to eat a ton of ice cream and go see a movie with Josh. I don't even care that there isn't really anything I want to see right now. I'll go see the stupid Carrie remake and eat buttered popcorn and the chocolate with the little dots on the top, because I don't give a FUCK.
I am putting 2013 in my Fuck It Bucket, and I'ma move the fuck on.