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Self-Portrait 3
hellblazer
-- I should have just rolled over this morning and let that dream go. Then maybe I would have gotten more than four hours of sleep last night. I went from "barely able to see bleary-eyed" to "wide awake" in the half-hour it took me to type it up and then whip up that Sandman icon.

-- My body seems to be actively trying to destroy itself in retaliation for the fact that I'm doing everything in my power to give it a much needed upgrade. Either that or the insane spree of cleaning and activity I went on yesterday has thrown my systems into a tailspin, which is far more likely. In either case, I don't think I'll be making it to kung fu tonight. I'm a hop skip and a jump away from having a "honey, turn the car around" moment, if you get my meaning, which most of you won't. But those of you that do know I mean business.

-- Other than my bastard gullet betraying me, life proceeds apace in a most satisfactory fashion. I went absolutely apeshit yesterday and for the most part, washed everything that wasn't nailed down. Shirts, sheets, pants, couch cushions, everything. I swept and scrubbed and washed and folded and re-arranged and packed stuff off to storage and just this very moment came up with a genius idea of what to do with the hat that's taking up an entire shelf in my closet. Plans for the Freak Kennel are done and locked in far far in advance of when we usually get such things finalized, and in general I just feel great. And I'm trying my damndest to not assume that all that means a shitstorm the likes of which could kill a man is looming on the horizon.