The Chick in the Yellow Slicker

Feast or Famine.

I got a lot of the things I was hoping for last week. Friday was sort of the pinnacle of the winning streak, a lot of deals were penciled in so now all I have to do is sort out the getting of the stuff done and we're golden.

Stop. Go. Stop. Go. Stop.

Go.

I've done an awesome job. Nina says I should be mindful of appreciating the things I do well, give myself credit where it's due and all that jazz. Growing up it was all just so many mixed messages. Nothing good ever, ever, EVER came without consequences.

30 years of thinking like that isn't easy to just shake off.

It is more of an easing out of it. Like bouncing from a party and hoping no one notices. One eye on the door and the other on the hostess. Edging. Edging. Slow and steady.

Then in one fell swoop I guess, I just commit to it. And hope the ghosts don't notice that I've left.

I think I've botched that metaphor. Cause really it's like getting people to leave my house party without being rude. The very last hangers on. Sleeping it off. Talking it off. Hoping to get lucky.

And me very gently nudging them toward the exit without overtly doing so. With luck they end up on the sidewalk thinking it was their own idea to leave.

Bah. Fucked that one up too, a little bit.

Shaking ghosts. That will be on my To Do list for years to come. I'll have time to refine the metaphor, I am sure.

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In other news: I've morphed from a bunny into a bird - and gained a familiar. A real life pet lion.

In even other news: I got the Chew Ominvore Edition #1 and have been spending hours reading it. Obsessing over every little detail in the drawings. The posters, the menus, the writing on the walls. I love the idea that they are laced with inside jokes and secret messages and little declarations of love and hate.

Furthermore: I began Tumbling. I don't know how I feel about the format and I don't know exactly what it's for. But I figured why the fuck not.

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Anyway the point I was getting at before is that I've gone above and beyond. Turned out an insane amount of information in about a trillion different formats. Submitted proposals until my eyes were bloodshot. And yes. Finally. Yes.

I should feel freer than ever to plan my vacation. I should not be hesitant to block out a few days of kicking it when my suitor arrives for proper courtship. I should feel as though I've earned it.

Instead all I can think is: how the fuck are we gonna get it all done? I always wonder that, and always get it done, but that doesn't take the wonder out of the wondering, if you know what I mean.

Ha.

When it rains, it pours. Lucky for me I'm the Chick in the Yellow Slicker.