Hit and Run

Stick and move, Bob and Weave, Ham and Eggs. Mmmmm, that sounds good.

So another day of complaining about nothing getting done and this will be a short note.

Yesterday, the guy blocked up the crawl space, the guy fixed the dishwasher (cost twice as much as I was expecting), Mike called and told me the truck would cost about $1500 to fix up. Shit, last evening I was not in a good mood. Life is expensive.

That and I'm the hated hard ass to my kids. I could just let them fuck up their lives by doing whatever sounds good, but for some reason, I feel like I have to intervene while I can.

I need to paint and write and do ceramics, MORE! To increase my sense of well-being and relax more.

What does it all come to in the end anyway. I'm yelling too much.

My consolation right now is, the rats in the crawlspace have it much harder than me.

More later,


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