Classical Sass

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In my head, I am forever four phases ahead of whatever phase I’m currently wearing like comfort soaked man panties over my unwashed skull. whatever. I don’t know why. But this is very obviously my lot in life.

See, I got to the point, today, where I was organizing my writing again. Like HEY I REMEMBER THIS, and here’re some topics and here’s this time table and oops but I’m still me so I ran out of time for everything this morning. But I figured; no problem! It’s all set up; I can just write this after work. And, I’m actually really excited about the shit I want to write. Which is nice, because I’ve written plenty that felt like ugggghhh but I probably should, as opposed to a small burst of belligerent flame that felt like it needed. Like it required. Those should posts are exhausting.

So it’s dismaying when you finally accept that you, despite every attempt to convince yourself otherwise, are not permanently on vacation, and must get the fuck up and get your crumbly shit together and get sane about the dire requirements of your daily life before the life you so carefully protected since you first learned you had that strength goes to absolute and utter nonexistence while you weep over a Barolo that you didn’t buy in Italy, only to promptly and completely over-estimate just how functional you are, and possibly were, ever, period.

Long story longer, I still have nothing. I’ve succumbed to another sploofy here’s my murky immediately present summary-post and, although I didn’t reach utter dysfunction until much later tonight, I am actively concerned about the quality of my dailies now.

Yay.

At least I (very just recently) have good intentions? No come on. That has to be something. Especially considering that up till literally this morning, I didn’t have any intentions at all. (PSA: I come from a hearty chorus line of ‘fuck good intentions’. I wrote about it in some other post that I can’t remember. shhh. it’s in the archive post maybe. But whatever this entire paragraph is a giant internalized fuck you. I’m self birding. stop typing)

Hey look a bed with three snuggly dogs on izzzzzzzzzzz

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