This summer is one of those periods where in the future, I’d be like, Ohhh I shoulda just enjoyed myself and have fun, I shouldn’t have stressed out so much about things when I didn’t need to, I should have gone to the beach more and spent more time in the sun, and slept well and eaten great, except like, I’m actually doing it now. Or feeling so very conscious of trying to. And it’s fascinating what seems to come up in response to this effort, against this effort.
I killed two big ass flies in my apartment today. No idea where they came from.
Puppycat is sleeping on my MELON BOY bag that I took with me to Flame Con. Smelling it all.