i survived 6 days of sick poppy. i was thrown up on 17 times…but only pooped on once.
meanwhile, i’m broke. we need to find a place to live. iggy is tragic & manipulative beyond his years. poppy is teething. misha and fidgit bicker despite my logically pointing out that he is 3 times her age; therefore, he should be 3 times more mature. and dusty…. my dusty. our relationship is a source of inspiration. a source of devastation. a source of hope and happiness and horrible angst. that’s how love is for some of us. it’s not all romantic comedies and sitcoms. i’ve accepted that. some love is dystopian katana-wielding madness–in a good way.
page 32 is in the works. i am also trying to draw when i can to keep me & my pens fluid. i also started trying to log my day to day, one of austin kleon’s suggestions from steal like an artist. so far i’ve logged about two crappy days. i’m hoping i can log about better days soon.
check this out for some of my angst-y middle school level poetry: http://quixoticmama.com/2015/05/08/the-scars-we-wear/
i kind of enjoyed my post today at quixotic mama (my alter ego to apocalyptic mama). i thought you might, too.
