It's 420 you guys! lol 420.
and also, 69, nice!
6-7, for some reason!
34!
42!
Let us all laugh at the silly numbers. Numbers are so fun.
=_=
Some might say age is just a number. They might be right.
Anyway. I'm taking this week off on account of my upcoming existence anniversary. That's traditionally been my yearly gift to myself: rather than buying shit I don't need, I just absolve myself of committed responsibility and spend the week doing whatever whacky things that I don't normally make time for. My gift to myself is freedom. It usually ends up being kind of a mental recalibration, a good time for a creative defrag, and it's very muchly needed this year.
Basically that means I will probably still draw, because I like drawing, and I'll still do normal everyday things I generally need to do because life goes on, but I'm not holding myself to any deadlines and I'm not promising to put out a comic this week. I want to make some progress on TTRPG beta stuff and maybe investigate how much work is needed to get a Volume 2 book rolling. I also need to get in touch with an eye doctor and find out if I'm going blind, cuz that would be pretty unfortunate if I am. Really though, I just haven't been able to do much lately apart from zombie around on autopilot on account of not getting any sleep for like four months, and I think I finally reached a breaking point last week.
I DID finally get some sleep, though, and it's incredible what a difference that makes! Unfortunately it may simply be the case where the cat is no longer allowed in the bedroom at night. He's decided that instead of sleeping quietly on my feet like he used to, he would rather leave every half hour, return, scream at the very top of his lungs for fifteen minutes to announce his return, then settle down and go back to sleep once he is certain the rest of us are all wide awake.
We're tried everything we can think of to mitigate and correct this behavior, but he's old and stubborn. All his needs are attended to before we go to bed and it sure doesn't seem like he actually WANTS anything other than to just make noise. It wasn't too terrible at first, but it keeps getting worse and louder and more frequent and it's gone so far past tolerable levels at this point. The only thing that seems to work is locking him out of the bedroom. I'd prefer not to. I'd love for him to go back to sleeping quietly on my feet all night like he used to, but it seems that isn't meant to be.