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juushikaI've been having a weird little while—life is good, but for absolutely no reason at all my mood often is not. I've more or less given up on pretending to understand why: while there may be other issues at play here, the why is mostly just the strangeness of my brain. There's nothing to do to combat that but time, distraction, love, and effort. I have most of those things, found in foolishness and in those that are close to me, so day by day I work to counteract the funk.
And then today I woke up, sat down, and wrote three semi-difficult, long procrastinated missives as if they were nothing. So who knows, really, what's going on with me.
That's not why I sat down to post, though. I sat down to spam pictures of cats. That counteracts funk, right?
This was the only good part about the fact that a billion teenagers were living here for a thousand years: there were piles of bedding for Madison, queen of all that she surveys, to claim as her own. You can't quite tell how much bedding she's sitting on here (a blanket atop a comforter atop I think a pillow atop a mattress), so here have a blurry shot that better shows off the cush:
That's Maddie. This is Dude:
Asleep on my bed, because if it's cold in the rest of the house he will literally run down the hallway and try to sneak into my warm bedroom if he hears my door open (as if after opening the door I would not be in the doorway to notice his attempts)—so sometimes I let him.
Nothing deep or meaningful here, folks. Just kitties.
And then today I woke up, sat down, and wrote three semi-difficult, long procrastinated missives as if they were nothing. So who knows, really, what's going on with me.
That's not why I sat down to post, though. I sat down to spam pictures of cats. That counteracts funk, right?
This was the only good part about the fact that a billion teenagers were living here for a thousand years: there were piles of bedding for Madison, queen of all that she surveys, to claim as her own. You can't quite tell how much bedding she's sitting on here (a blanket atop a comforter atop I think a pillow atop a mattress), so here have a blurry shot that better shows off the cush:
That's Maddie. This is Dude:
Asleep on my bed, because if it's cold in the rest of the house he will literally run down the hallway and try to sneak into my warm bedroom if he hears my door open (as if after opening the door I would not be in the doorway to notice his attempts)—so sometimes I let him.
Nothing deep or meaningful here, folks. Just kitties.
