At Least it's Friday

IF I was smart I’d go out for a walk now while it’s bright and sunny. I don’t see that happening though. Ya see, there’s a cat on my lap. She’s comfortable…purring even. What kind of a monster would disturb a contented kitten – I ask you?!

I spent much of yesterday cleaning out bedroom drawers searching for my lost passport. Yeah, I won’t be traveling outta the country any time soon BUT not knowing where it is freaks me out. I can’t even find the my backpack! During one of my recent Marie Kondo-ing frenzies, did I toss the bag with my passport tucked in one of the pockets?

Possibly, it’s in the deep, dark back of my closet. The hunt continues. I’m NOT looking forward to the hoop jumping required to replace my passport so it better be in here somewhere…dammit.

Apart from this frustration, I got nothin’ today. I feel like I’m sinking under the weight of personal disappointments, lack of design work coming in, the extremoid wretchedness of the daily news – the radical, bizarro injustices and, of course, Trump’s Plague.

I’d tie one on at Jen and Oni’s Jumpin’ Jazz Joint (the personal pub we will create this evening) BUT I’ve learned, over these long-ass years, that over imbibe-age only leads to embarrassing, maudlin bathos, hangovers and self-recriminations.

Just FYI, that ain’t NO fucking fun at all.

So, as soon as Coco decides she’s had enough laptime, I’ll continue my heroic quest, go for a walk and begin (finally) research into setting up an Etsy shop for cards and prints of my art stuff. If I stay busy, maybe the Big Sad won’t catch me.

Every man has his secret sorrows which the world knows not; and often times we call a man cold when he is only sad.
~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow