You know, nothing pounds home the fact that graduation is less then seven months away like writing a Grad Write Up for the yearbook. And then having them change the word length. Twice.
My nerves are beyond frayed. My nerves are shot. Like, limp noodle, constantly teary eyed, verge of melt down shot. And now I have this little voice nattering in my ear, “faaaaiiiilllll, then. It’ll be fine. Everyone likes you. Just faaaaaiiiiilll.” And ya know what? You really gotta start worrying when your inner voice sounds like your sister.
I mean, very creepy.
What’s this got to do with you, my darling watchers (most of whom don’t even read this journal anyway)?
Well, a nerve shot, limb noodle armed, verge of melt down writer is not a productive on. Needless to say, you’ll be seeing a lot of art uploaded, for a while. Why, you ask? Well, because I’m a cheap skate, cop out, and lazy, to boot. So I’m basically handing my Step-Mom ((That’s right! My mom got married! On a boat, and it was fun, and there was dancing!!!! Done by me, no less!! And five girls, and a pole. Don’t ask. On second thought, do. It’s a funny story.)) all my art, getting her to scan it, darkening the lines, and posting it. Why, again, you ask, since you got distracted by the Bracket Rank? Well, because I want to collapse. In fact, there have been a large increase of sick days, for me.
So please don’t bother me about fictions. I have a new project I’m working on, and that, home work, and Double Booked are priority. Sorry.
You can now go on with your lives.
Unless you wanna hear about the five girls, slow dancing, with a pole. It is worth it.