Uh.
Pretty has a dumb work schedule. He's been working the overnight shift quite a bit and it makes me sad. Duh, of course it does.
Please do not attempt to murder me, creepers of the world. I live around extremely nosey old people, have a super-scary canine, and sleep with a loaded gun and a machete.
Yep. I'm pretty hardcore. Don't believe me? Well, I hope you like stab/gun-shot/dog-bite/old-lady-induced wounds then.
What?!
Unnecessary...

I got a steam mop. The resulting excitement has been excessive. I'm adding it to the list of things that make me happy:

1. Pretty
2. Ginny Love Puppy
3. Painting from class
4. Steam mop

I don't effing care if my list is dull. I'm dull. It suits me, dammit.

I was in an awesome almost-arty mood a few days ago and decided to sketch randomness on canvas to see what happened. I work best this way. Again, super hardcore.
I dug out my last canvas, fueled with motivation and creative energy, and inspected it because it's been in storage for over a year.
M-Effing COCKROACH dead inside.
Disgusting.
So, I obviously screamed and threw it across the room and didn't go near it again until Pretty was home and plucked the little bastard out for me. Love Puppy looked at me like I was ten shades of crazy, but I sure as heck didn't see her trying to remedy this devastating situation. Goddamn dog shouldn't judge.
It was traumatic.

My frequent headaches are getting unreasonable again. Seriously wishing a cause could be determined. My liver is shot from pain meds and I'm sure the ol' esophagus would appreciate a little less vom in the morning. Just sayin'.

Someone please build me a walk-in closet.
When I first typed that, I wrote "walking closet". Psh. Wish my closet walked. Hello, convenience.

Stopping now.