Hangover Lite

Even though I’m not in school anymore and I’m not technically working, at least in the drawing a paycheck sense (unemployed English major in Michigan, there’s a shocker. I knew I should have gone into tool and die or welding), I still give myself deadlines. I like to have an idea when I’ll have a project done. The problem with that is when I run out of ideas two days before a self-imposed deadline. I’ve come leaps and bounds with the second Taylor book this week, but of course there are two days until my deadline and I’m stuck on how to make the final fight scene go. I have notes, so basically, I need to quit whining and get to work.

We had rain and some thunderstorms last night. Gram’s dog, Molly, is staying with us while Gram is in Ohio and Florida (and no I have no envy of her going to Florida. The barn yard may be a mucky muddy shitty mess, but I’d rather walk through it barefoot and wrangle hoses than go vacationing in Florida). Anyway, rant over, Molly is scared of thunderstorms. She is also scared of me. Apparently, she’s more frightened of storms than me, especially since she got part of my pork sandwich the other night and a whole leftover piece of fish last night, because she wandered upstairs last night to sleep in my bed and cower from the storm. Since Zip has given up sleeping with me, I guess I thrash and kick, though he’s been a little reluctant to tell it to me straight, it was actually nice to cuddle with a dog. Even if it’s a little rat dog who’s just kissing ass so she has a warm place to sleep. This morning she’s ignoring me again, unless she needs something, so it’s kind of like a one-night stand. Minus the guilt and hangover.