Hello Reader. I trust you have had a tolerable summer. Mine was rather shit, but that's okay, because even if I accomplished absolutely none of my uncharacteristically modest goals, I found the time to do some notable things. For example, I made a plush platypus thereby doing my part to represent God's Adorable Joke in plushidom among the dull-as-dirt velveteen bunnies, pussified bears and vacuous golden retrievers. Artistically speaking, it wasn't the fanciest) platypus, but it made a tiny larval human happy and that's good enough for me.
Other notable things: I got marginally less awful at the guitar, which is saying something since I have been playing on and off for about ten years now and would happily settle for not totally sucking by the time I die of natural causes.
I also saw the number of cats in my apartment decrease by one without having to sully my dainty lady hands. That leaves three cats. I'm hoping that one by one, they marry romantic and idealistic tomcats who, after a brief but wonderful period of nuptual bliss, get arrested for their revolutionary acts and are deported one after the last to Siberia, forcing them to follow their husbands to the frozen ends of the earth, never to urinate on my shoes again. Bitches.
Even as I write this post, there is a lone cat turd sitting forlornly in the middle of the kitchen floor as if to say, "Why god? Why do these creatures have a reputation for cleanliness? Also, I'm a piece of shit so please put me out of my misery!"
But this summer wasn't all hating cats. I finished another one of my journals, the first in three years, in fact. That I had seen fit to ignore the utterly IMPORTANT work of Gifting the world with my memoirs speaks volumes of my mental state (not miserable). But, in this brief, but pleasant period of Not Misery, I realized that a Tolerable Existence becomes Miserable All Over Again when you trade your Artistic vision/therapeutic bitching sessions for it. Therefore, I have decided to Resume Misery As Usual because it's the only time I can stand myself. It's absurd, but then, so am I, there you go.
Up to now I have managed to avoid those three words that'll be all over the internets and airwaves today, but I suppose it should be mentioned that I'll be starting a new program today at that place where people go so they can put off getting a real job until their drinking skills are up to the task. Unfortunately, my schedule's a hot mess at the moment. My current uncharacteristically modest goal involves getting that straightened out before the week is over, so wish me luck and do so with more effort than when I asked you to wish me luck so I could get a summer job because you totally blew that one. It's okay though, because I still like you. I'm awesome like that.