The wee hours
12:42 AM: My last sewing machine needle breaks. Inexplicably, there are no curse words coming out of my mouth. I contemplate the existence of any twenty-four hour sewing stores. I conclude there are none.
1:08 AM: I learn that my cat is rather personable and friendly if you're sitting in the basement waiting for a screen exposure at an almost ungodly hour. He climbs into my lap, long front arms hanging straight down while I rub his back and a small pile of fur collects on me and the floor.
2:15 AM: Working on my caution tape rug has turned my hands yellow. It looks like I've rubbed dandelions all over my hands, like we used to do in grade school.
3:20 AM: I catch myself cooing to a sharpie. "you're such a good marker, yes you are, YES YOU ARE!"
5:01 AM: I decide the Virgin Mary painting is going to be called "THANKS: How Mary saved me, but not in a religious way". This strikes me as hysterical and I realize it's long past bedtime.
1:08 AM: I learn that my cat is rather personable and friendly if you're sitting in the basement waiting for a screen exposure at an almost ungodly hour. He climbs into my lap, long front arms hanging straight down while I rub his back and a small pile of fur collects on me and the floor.
2:15 AM: Working on my caution tape rug has turned my hands yellow. It looks like I've rubbed dandelions all over my hands, like we used to do in grade school.
3:20 AM: I catch myself cooing to a sharpie. "you're such a good marker, yes you are, YES YOU ARE!"
5:01 AM: I decide the Virgin Mary painting is going to be called "THANKS: How Mary saved me, but not in a religious way". This strikes me as hysterical and I realize it's long past bedtime.
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