Sincerely Yours… A Dissatisfied Customer

Before I start today’s ramblings, I want to apologize, dear readers… I actually wanted to write an entry for a while, but I didn’t have the opportunity. I was nursing a sick pup. Poor Baxter… One morning he barfed up his entire breakfast, which was odd enough. But when he threw up three more times, it was boiled chicken and rice for dinner. The next morning he was dry heaving and sleeping a lot. When I couldn’t rouse him from shaking him and calling his name and had to tug his ears to get a vague response, I checked his nose. It was really warm and dry. I made an emergency appointment with the vet because I just knew he was sick. My mother took us down since I’d just paid bills and was tapped out (plus I had a dead car battery and it seemed no one had the size I needed in stock) so I needed help. Normally I don’t get bloodwork done because it’s costly, but… It’s a good thing I did. He had pancreatitis! So he got 2 meds, special food, fluids under the skin, bloodwork, a nail trim and a joint supplement because apparently his hind leg ligaments are close to tearing (so that will be a surgery of $3000-$5000). Add in the cost of the emergency visit and it came to a hair over $700! I nearly fell over… I hate being indebted to my mother for anything, but what was I to do? Everything big and expensive comes right after you pay all your bills and you just have enough to get by until next time. At least he’s feeling a bit better, now.

Obviously I haven’t done much (and didn’t sleep much in the beginning) with Baxter being so sick with the exception of going to a dermatologist appointment to have a cyst removed from my back at the base of my right shoulder blade. That was comical, actually… The nurse wanted to explain the procedure and I explained it to her. This led to a conversation of all the cysts I’ve had, whether they were lanced or removed, over the years and my ovarian loss to the nasty fuckers… Yeah, I’m no stranger to them. Let’s just do this thing and get it over with, okay?

Anyway, so when my neighbor asked me if I wanted to go to the sunflower festival with her yesterday, I was surprisingly up for it. I needed to get out and I thought a girls day spent out cutting our own sunflowers, looking at arts and crafts, eating junk food and drinking booze at one of the local farms sounded fun! But yesterday morning she messaged me to say she wasn’t going… At first it was that she had some things to do that morning. Well, the farm didn’t open until 10 and I don’t like to get an early start. I get up early, but I don’t leave my house early. I like to ease into my day slowly. You’re lucky if I’ll leave the house by 10, honestly… So I said we could go after she was done, no big deal. It was quite a while before she messaged me again to tell me she had a million things to do and then she had to do those Instacart things all afternoon and she couldn’t go because she needed the money. Then why the fuck did you ask me in the first fucking place?! Seriously, why did you ask?!?

Yes… Yikes, I’m sharing pictures of me again. Please excuse the bad hair. With the stitches in my back from the cyst removal, I can’t move my arm a whole lot, so… I had to leave it curly. Yuck…

Back to the subject… My neighbor is a bit… unnerving. She honestly acts like a friend in certain aspects. She’ll gossip with you, tell you very personal things, once she brought me a Shepard’s Pie she made for no reason… But then she’ll say she’ll stop in for a visit and never show (so I stopped anticipating visits). And if you need her to be there for you, she isn’t…

Just two days before the festival, she asked me a favor… She had done something stupid and tried to OD on some pills and was trying to get to the shotguns in her house. She spent time in the hospital and the psych unit and her husband wanted the guns out of the house and she asked me to keep hold of them for now. Granted, I’ve had thoughts myself over the years, but I haven’t the slightest clue how to work one, so they’re safe here and I agreed in order to keep her safe. The following day was when she asked me if I wanted to go to the festival and I said I did, it sounded fun. Then yesterday morning she pulled that shit… Does she just like fucking with my head or something?! Because it really isn’t funny… It brought me way down. I really don’t have any friends, so when you pull shit like this, it really pisses me off and hurts my feelings. I was talked into going anyway because I shouldn’t let her stop me from going if I wanted to. Obviously I did go, as you can see. But I don’t exactly look thrilled…

Okay, to be fair, there were a lot of reasons I did not look thrilled…

First of all, my stitches hurt and I’m out there with this big gauze pad taped to my back. Yeah, I didn’t look like a fucking ‘tart… Second, it was hot… Not overly hot. It was only in the mid 80s and it wasn’t humid, but the sun was just brutal. And I wasn’t lucky enough to get taken out to the field on the nice tractor pulled covered wagon. Nope, there and back I was on the open one with the sun beating down on me. And there were bees… Actually I wasn’t worried about the bees much. They were honey bees more interested in collecting pollen than the humans. Plus honey bees don’t sting unless they’re really provoked or threatened because they die when they do. So even though I’m allergic to bees, I don’t worry much about honey bees… Still, even with all that, the worst was my allergies and the fact that over the counter shit doesn’t work and mu insurance still refuses to cover the stuff that does. Oh yes, I forgot to wear sunscreen, got burned and will now develop sun poison because I was a dumb ass and forgot. It’s a condition known as polymorphous light eruption (PMLE) that occurs in people who are more sensitive to sunlight, mostly women and people who have a family history (my mother gets it). So not only do I have the healing itch of the stitches and the itch from my sensitivity to the adhesive on first aid tape, now I’ll be itchy from this sun poison rash. And you can’t scratch or it hurts, sometimes seems to spread and, once for me, turned purple from scratching.

Holy shit, I actually made some traditional art… It’s not the greatest… I’m not fond of the watercolor markers as they don’t all blend nice (some do, some don’t). Anyway, I drew this up a few days ago. Periodically I draw these little- autobiographical- things in my sketchbooks to describe me, who I am, what I’m about, the things I’m most into. I always write them in the third person for some reason… And they’re usually cute, whereas this one has a more serious feel to it. Anyway, I was sketching it up in my sketchbook and thought, “Why…? I have watercolor paper and markers… I could make a nice colored one and frame it maybe just for shits and giggles.” So I made this. Am I happy with it? Meh… It’s okay for now. There are aspects I like and some I don’t. I’m sure I’ll make another at some point. The things is, I make these for a reason. And the reason this time was to give good insight into who this Jackie Blue character is and what it’s like to be her.

So here’s the thing… I’ve always been “Jackie Blue“, that girl in the song who seems as if her life is really pretty awful (as they call it, “a drag”) because she’s introverted, self isolating, a daydreamer and living these dreams (I imagine in her own head) that can never come true. So everyone thinks that poor Jackie’s life just sucks monkey balls because, on the outside, that’s what they see. Maybe it’s because that’s what she wants them to see or she truly believes in in some way herself, who knows. But, deep down, Jackie really isn’t so down. And her life really isn’t the drag everyone seems to think it is. She’s actually had a lot of fun… And this is why, when I was 19, the friend who had a thing for me and learned his affections were not returned, got pissed off and, during his rant, yelled, “You wanna know something? You are ‘Jackie Blue’!” And it wasn’t just because it happened to be playing at the time. He was a metal head… He had actually been paying attention to the lyrics every time I played the song and had realized something I’d always known. I really was like that girl they were singing about. He meant to insult me and, instead, he had simply stated the obvious. It was kind of comical, actually…

I just saw that, when this burns low enough, it says, “Fueled by positive energy”. How cute!

Okay, so here’s the thing… I think this is all part of my midlife crisis. There are a lot of upsides to being Jackie Blue, sure… Honestly, I love living in my own little world, whether it’s in my drawings, paintings, comics, the stories I write or the ones I live out just in my mind when I’m daydreaming. I wouldn’t change that for anything in the universe (except maybe having some of those dreams come true). But there is a downside… I’ve lived so many lives through so many of the characters I’ve created because all of them, in some way, shape or form, are different parts that make up me or are literally me in a nutshell. And when you’ve lived so many different lives, some of them better than what you’ve led, it’s difficult if not impossible to feel fulfilled in reality. The story I wrote when I was 22, for example… I decided that I was a really horrible writer then. I loved the concept, but I’m a better writer now, so I decided to revamp the entire thing as a more mature person. The problem is, when I came up with the story, it was all the hopes and dreams I had as a young woman: a successful art career, financial security, true friends, a gentle and loving husband who didn’t treat me unkindly like the way I saw my mother being treated. I may never finish my story because it just makes me realize how unfulfilling my life really is and how I don’t have any of those things…

“I love the delicate shadow of she wanting me to be…”

In any case… For those who were curious about this new drawing I’d been talking about, this is it. The male in question is the main character in my story I’ll probably never finish. And the line “I love the delicate shadow of she wanting me to be” was from the movie Conspiracy Theory. I always thought it was so lovely… It just fit somehow.

So, dear readers, this ends my random rambling for today… Take some advice from an old fart like me; don’t dream too much. Even if dreams are all you have, don’t do it. One day you’ll end up like me and feel very empty and unfulfilled. Yeah, life will still suck without dreams, but at least you won’t feel like this, which I think is infinitely worse. Sometimes it’s not fun being Jackie Blue…

In Crisis? They Don’t Have A Hotline For This One…

Me the first time I heard “Welcome To The Jungle” on the oldies station…

I was in such a fucking funk all last week… Seriously, I’m talking a funk of such massive proportions that I couldn’t even get excited when one of my closest friends from the UK said she was moving to the US… It literally took me all week to figure out what the fuck was going on with me and when I figured it out, I ended up losing my shit and calling my sister in tears. I was having a mid-life crisis… Yes, a belated one as I just turned 49, but a mid-life crisis nonetheless, and I had absolutely no fucking clue what to do or how to handle it.

And this is supposed to help, I suppose…

This was also on a Friday, the day my mother comes to visit… I tried talking to her because, you know, she’s older than me, she’s been there, done that. I was hoping for words of wisdom, but she had nothing to offer and literally cut me off and began telling me how her sponge of a boyfriend had been annoying her that morning. I was pretty much emotionally and mentally exhausted by that point and sick of the both of them, so I calmly told her, “He’s a sponge, mom… I’ve been telling you he was a sponge since you moved him in when I was 12. Nothing has changed. He was a sponge then; he’s a sponge now. You need to give him something to do around the house because he doesn’t do anything.” I don’t think she liked it, but she didn’t get angry. I think she knew I was right…

There were a lot of things that kind of led up to my realizing I was having a mid-life crisis and the subsequent not giving a fuck what I said to anyone after the fact. This particular song was not a large part of it but it was part of a playlist I made entitled “Music To ‘Meh’ By” that I’d been listening to for days as I worked on my latest drawing, so I’m sure it didn’t help… Anyway… I had been reflecting on my life and exactly how fucked up it really was. My “father” (for lack of a better term) the pervert who I thankfully saw little of after he left when I was not quite 9. My mother, the neglectful one who forgot I existed, once in particular because she was playing Missile Command on the Atari 2600 and was almost at a million points. The verbally and emotionally abusive sponge she moved in when I was 12. The beatings she herself would give me on occasion after he moved in… Then, in a weird twist, she denied my desire to go to college so I could stay home, get dead end job after dead end job to help her support the perpetually under or unemployed sponge who had been abusive to us both for so many years. Hell, the last time she attempted to hit me, I was 26 years old! I told her go ahead and hit me, just as long as she knew that, if she did, I was going to hit her right the fuck back. That was the last time she even attempted it… The sponge, however, still thinks it’s okay to be verbally and emotionally abusive towards me at 49 even though I haven’t lived with them in well over 20 years. How fucked is that…

I had been doing a lot of reflecting on my life… Surprise, that’s me at 19 on the right in the top picture. I was skinny as fuck, but I was shaped like a Barbie doll, huh? The bottom one was me at 22, not much different… Sometimes I look at those and think, “What the fuck happened to that girl? The one that had ambitions, hopes, dreams… the one who had plans for a future?” I wish I could go back in time and smack her skinny ass around and show her, “This is what will happen if you don’t get the fuck away from your mom and the sponge. I don’t care how you do it, just fucking do it!!!” Now I’m old (well, I’m a bit beyond middle-aged). The Barbie figure is gone, the smooth skin is gone… The ta-tas that once stood up by themselves have fallen victim to the effects of gravity, aging and menopause, just like everything else. And my life in general… I just feel very unfulfilled. It’s nothing that any job is going to help. I’m only qualified to do dead end jobs, secretarial work and work as a nurse’s aid. And while I liked some of those jobs, they never made me feel fulfilled. It just wasn’t what I needed to do.

I thought it might help if I did a little reorganizing… I had two shelving units a friend was storing until I had place for them and I finally had them brought in. Of course that didn’t come without its problems… Problem number one was that they were being stored in a garage that, apparently, birds were getting into and I was finding bird shit splatter that I had to clean off the shelves. That was fun… Then came the other issue. It’s a bit hard to organize your things when your cat sees this as an opportunity to claim a new space for himself. Yes, Sebastian decided that organizing was apparently a waste of time and I should just surrender this shelving unit to him and make it a cat condo. He did something similar when I had to get a new microwave… I put the new one down where the old one had been and when I went to put whatever had been on top of the old one on the new one (mostly it’s my meds and whatnot), I found I couldn’t do it because Sebastian had sprawled out across the entire top of the new microwave… You know, I’ve lived with cats for 45 years of my life and I still have no fucking idea why they do this… As soon as you get any new household item, they need to go on or in it like you bought it for them. You don’t need storage space…

Then Haiku decided to get in on this action for some stupid reason… You can imagine how interesting that was. There were paws flailing at each other between the shelves, batting at one another… I let them have their fun for a little while before handing them both their eviction notices so I could do what I needed to do.

Sometimes, when I’m in a funk, just changing my environment helps immensely. Sometimes I organize, sometimes I move knickknacks, sometimes I rearrange furniture. It may not sound like a big deal, but often times that small change can really change your outlook on things and get you out of a funk. That’s what I was hoping for in this case. So I took an entire day and, after cleaning all the bird shit splatters off certain areas off both the shelving units and having a germaphobe moment, I went to work organizing the things I had to organize. It was no small feat… I kept getting interrupted by messages, phone calls (mostly from Morticia) and the animals who were all annoyingly curious as to what I was putting in the drawers or up on the shelves. Especially the dogs… Everything had to be sniffed thoroughly before being placed anywhere.

And here’s the end result (minus what’s in the drawers and on the other shelf on the right). As you can see… I had a fuck ton of canvas. My sister has been doing this thing at Christmas for years where it’s like she just stopped putting thought into my gifts altogether. So for years I’ve been getting the same gifts: a pack of canvases, a small set of paints and a pack of new brushes. The only thing that changes is the size of the canvas, how many are in each pack, what types of paints she gets me (lately it’s been watercolors for some reason when I paint with acrylics) and the types of brushes in the packs. But literally it’s the same gift… And I don’t paint, or draw, as much as I used to because I’m just not inspired (thanks, antidepressants). I needed somewhere to store all these canvas packs and this was the perfect place. Plus I have a shelf for sketchbooks and watercolor paper (which I bought for the paint) and the drawers are filled with the other art supplies like pencils, pens, the small paint sets, brushes… The bottom drawer has coloring books, the ones people buy as a means of relaxation, the adult coloring books. Yes, sometimes I just like to color because it really is relaxing… Anyway, the bottom shelf I decided to use as a makeshift meditation alter. I just kind of threw it together haphazardly, to be honest. I’m not happy with it at all… I just think I could have done a better job. And something seems to be missing from it. Plus I don’t feel it’s big enough. It’s cramped into this tiny little closed in space. I think it really needs to be in a larger, more open area. And it needs a cloth or something. I don’t know… That part I’m not happy with at all… Still, when it was all said and done, I felt a sense of accomplishment because I finally took care of something I’d been neglecting and everything looked so much better. But did I feel fulfilled? Nope… I don’t know that I thought I would, actually. I think I was just hoping to lift the funk.

And so here I sit… still feeling unfulfilled, still not knowing why I suddenly felt like everything in my life was wrong and I had to change every single aspect of it. And still not knowing how to fix what I’m feeling…

It’s funny… They have a fucking hotline for people in all sorts of crisis. Thinking of killing yourself? In an abusive relationship? Are you a teenager having a tough time with the ‘rents because, as DJ Jazzy Jeff and The Fresh Prince once said “Parents Just Don’t Understand“? Are you a gambler, alcoholic, drug abuser and don’t know how to stop? Are you attracted to the same sex and don’t know how to tell your family? Hey, they’ve got a hotline for it all! Okay, I don’t know about that last one, but they probably do. But going through a mid-life crisis? Fuck you, you don’t need a hotline even though it’s called a crisis… right? That’s what therapy is for! Yup, that’s what all that expansive therapy is for and, if you’re having a crisis and can’t talk to your therapist for another week, too bad for you, then. I should start my own hotline…

Honestly, I don’t know what to do… I’m not even sure why this is happening now. Normally people go through their mid-life crisis around 40. So either I’m a late bloomer, I’m going to live to be 100… or I was having this issue a lot longer than I thought and was just ignoring it. Now I can’t ignore it anymore. It’s out there, lurking about… And I don’t know how to make it go away or fix it.

Sometimes I look in the mirror and I see the me I am today. And sometimes I can see the young woman I once was and wonder what in the blue fuck happened to her. Granted, the Snapchat filter did smooth my skin, but I honestly don’t have many wrinkles. It’s just that my skin doesn’t velvety like this. I certainly have a lot less wrinkles and gray hair than other people my own age. Sometimes I see other people at 49 and wonder how much chlorine is in their gene pool because they look more like 149… I still look like me; I just look like a slightly older version of me… without cool eye makeup like this… Okay, I know you’re all wondering, “What the fuck, Jackie?! You hate showing yourself!” Well, aside from the fact that it was relevant to today’s topic of rant… I just really like this Snapchat picture because I like the eye makeup. It’s so retro!

Whatever comes of this mid-life crisis, the only thing I have to do is not lose sight of myself and who I am. That’s the thing I have to keep focused on. I may need to change certain aspects of my life, but I still need to remember who I am and never lose sight of her. Right…?

Oh, I have no fucking idea… I don’t know what I’m doing, what I’m thinking, what I’m feeling… My therapist is going to love me at our next session… Sometimes I think I frustrate him. He’s often told me I’m intelligent. I don’t know if that’s a compliment or a complaint. I think it’s both… I think it makes his job more difficult, that’s certain. The more intelligent the person, the more difficult it is to manipulate their mind into correct thinking. Maybe that’s why he sighs a lot… I’m sure he’ll be doing that more often the next time I meet with him. That’s alright; I rather enjoy being frustrating…

Vampires Among Us…

I’ll be god-damned… They even have an instructional book for becoming a vampire… Do I even want to know?! Probably not…

I know what you’re thinking, dear readers… You saw that title and thought, “Christ, Jackie’s cheese has finally slipped off her fucking cracker… Vampires?! There are no such things!” But actually, you’d be wrong and I’ll explain why. “Vampire” has long been used as a term to describe an undead being who sustains themselves by feeding off the blood of living creatures (and, if you’re one of those goofy Twilight vampires, you’re all pretty and sparkle in sunlight for some dumb reason). But recently, the term has been used more loosely. For example, in my Animal Crossing game, when my villagers come to visit my home and annoyingly won’t leave, they eventually tell me they don’t want to be what they call a “time vampire”, someone who takes up too much of my time when I have other things to do, I assume. I’m sure we all have time vampires in our real lives (I know I sure do), people who keep you on the phone for hours and won’t let you get a word in edgewise for fear you’ll say you have to go.

Then there’s the dreaded energy vampire… Seriously, this is a thing (look, they even write books about it). They’re toxic people who literally feed off your energy, suck it all out of you until you have nothing and use it for their own benefit so they feel good and you feel like a hollow shell. But, contrary to their popular belief, you don’t need to feel sympathy or empathy to be a victim of these vampires. They can still suck the energy right out of you just because you’re too polite to tell them flat out to shut the fuck up. You can tell them things you know they won’t want to hear and maybe they’ll leave you alone for a few days (or they’ll just tell you that you’re wrong and defend their actions) and then it’s business as usual. The worst part is… How in the blue fuck does one get rid of energy vampires before it’s too late and the person getting attacked is completely drained? Well, I guess that’s why they make books like this, huh?

I myself am a victim of an energy vampire and have been for some time (which, if you’ve been following me for a while, I’m sure you know that). And this weekend really took the cake. I honestly can’t take this fucking shit anymore…

After having a meltdown mid last week (which caused a rather lengthy episode of tachycardia), I hadn’t felt well for days. I’ve been under a lot of stress and anxiety lately and Morticia hadn’t been helping… Well, I hadn’t spoken to her in about two days before I realized I couldn’t avoid her or she’d be bitching to her other “friends” how I’m not her friend because I never answer her calls. I’m sorry, I just can’t talk to you the half dozen times a day you want to talk to me… Once is more than enough, especially lately. I’ve been listening to her beating the same dead horses and it’s driving me bat shit insane… She doesn’t feel well and has herself thoroughly convinced she’s deathly ill, but she won’t go to the doctor. She got injured at work, they denied her claim for carpal tunnel after the claims adjuster asked her questions that were none of her business. I told her talk to a lawyer and gave her a name. She still hasn’t called, but she still cries to me…

And this is how Morticia is… I know she’s not the brightest crayon in the box, but she’s not this stupid… Even if she was, I’m giving her good solid advice. Go to the doctor if you feel that bad. Call a lawyer if you think the company is fucking you and sweeping shit under the rug. But she doesn’t do these things. Why I don’t know… As far as the doctor goes, I think it’s because, if she does go, she’ll find out she’s fine and then she can’t play ill. I honestly doubt it’s because she’s afraid something is really wrong with her. She eats up the attention she gets from everyone (but me) because she’s “so sick” all the time. As for getting a lawyer so she doesn’t get fucked… I think she won’t call because she’d much rather someone else do it, like me. I always tell her no, she has to do it.

Apparently, in the two days I hadn’t spoken to her, there was some drama (shocking…) between her and one of her supposed “friends”. I’m sure if it were me in that situation, I’d have been pissed about being the third member of the party who was getting ditched by the other two. But Morticia’s issues seemed to run deeper than that. She bitched about everything, insisting the friend’s issue was that she just had to be in control of everything. I don’t think Morticia realizes that she has that same issue… She also bitched about her other friend, who shares her name, because her boyfriend is an asshole who is very nasty and speaks to her friends nasty as well. And she was angry that both these friends seem to have the same issue: once they have a man in their lives, they don’t bother with their friends anymore. She seemed positively incensed by all this, especially the other Morticia. I asked her what did she care? The other Morticia is a middle aged woman. If she made a bad choice, it’s hers to make. Let it be…

So after two days of listening to her beating these same dead horses for a half hour or more each fucking time she called, I felt like I was going to completely lose my shit… I haven’t exactly been feeling great myself, as I’ve said, because I’ve been under a lot of stress lately and I’d told her so. She asked me what was wrong when I’d said I hadn’t been feeling well myself and when I began telling her, she cut me off to keep beating one of the dead horses. She was crying to me about money issues again when she knows I’m having some major financial issues myself at the moment. Yeah, you’re having issues… but you spent $42 to go to a water park Friday… To add to this, the breakup she had with Gomez… I can’t tell what the fuck is going on. She says they’re just friends, but the way she talks about him, gets angry and jealous, I think they’re still together, but she denies it. I’m just so fucking done… I just can’t anymore… I was actually starting to feel a bit better for not speaking with her for two days. After I talked to her? I felt like shit all over again…

And so it makes you wonder… Why?!? Seriously, why are energy vampires like this?! Actually, why are toxic people in general so fucking toxic?! If I know one of my friends (wait… what friends…?) is having a far worse time at life than I am, I don’t talk to them about what’s going on in my life, even if they ask, even if they know something is wrong. And do you know why? Because they have enough shit to deal with. They don’t need me dumping my shit on top of theirs. By contrast, I don’t think they should dump their shit on me when I’m going through a worse time than they are because I just can’t handle more than what I have on my own plate at that point and time. The problem is, how do you tell someone that? How do you tell them that you don’t want to hear their whining and bitching because you have as much on your plate as you can handle and anymore and you’re going to fucking crack? Or, you know… make them the funny smell in your trunk… whichever… My therapist asked me the other day what was I doing for stress relief and I was genuinely puzzled and asked him what he meant. He said coping skills, meds… Well gee, doc… I don’t want to be on a fuck ton on Klonopin again, so I only take one in the morning. And coping skills aren’t worth shit.

I love the idea of “coping skills”… Have they ever actually worked for anyone?! I know they’ve never really worked for me or they don’t work in every situation. When I’m overly stressed, like now, they don’t work for shit… And it’s sad that we even need people to teach us skills to cope with the kind of stupid we need to put up with in our lives.

I recall once speaking to a bipolar friend and asking her if she ever felt special because she was bipolar. Like, did she ever feel as if the entire world walked around wearing blinders or looked at the world through rose colored glasses and you feel special because you see the world how it really is, did that make her feel special, like she had a superpower or something? Without hesitation, she replied, “Oh my god, yes…” I’ve always found that interesting… Sometimes I must admit that I do feel slightly superior because I see the world differently than most people. But then there are times I envy those who don’t see the ugliness and stupid that I do… I wish I never saw it…

Not to worry, dear readers… I don’t plan on doing anything foolish to myself or Morticia… much as I’d like to have her take a few deep breaths from a chloroform soaked rag sometimes so she’d stop calling me so fucking often… Maybe today, since it’s supposed to be nice, I’ll take Baxter for a nature day to the creek that runs through the backyard. Dopping in creek water always makes me feel so much better for whatever the reason. Or maybe I’ll work on a new drawing. I’ve had a few ideas in my head… Or maybe I’ll just put on my headphones and lose myself in some beautiful music. That usually helps melt away some stress (Pink Floyd’s Dark Side Of The Moon album is sounding good right about now). But regardless of what I decide to do to help tone down my stress, I have one last word of caution for you, dear readers… Beware the energy vampires. They may look like your family or friends, but they’re not. And they are out there… among us… waiting…

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