My partner often looks at me and stifles a laugh, like he’s seen something hilarious.
“What is it?” I ask.
His answer is always
“Just you.”
I’m always doing things that are funny to him. Which, for someone with depression, is not a bad thing. If I can bring one smile to his face, I’m a happy rat.
My sister in law is two years younger than me, just had a baby and is working full time, but carves out time to create beautiful cards on Photoshop. Meanwhile I’ve never really been able to take the time to wrap gifts — it’s just not in my skill set, and I have no inclination to make things look outwardly nice for people.
It’s not just wrapping paper. Beautiful letter stationary and envelopes, lovely cards, this is not really my thing.
Recently, we exchanged gifts, and hers was neatly wrapped, and came with a card. In my case, I just handed it in a bag. Feeling a bit irresponsible, I tried to wrap it properly, but it just looked like a mess of tape and crumpled paper.
A small little sketch. I seem to be attracted to things that have a wonderful side and also outside the conventional norms of beauty or social respectability. Like rats, mice, crows, dandelions, witchy musicians like Azealia Banks, thorny thistles, possums and racoons.
A very strange Australian video inspired me today. Apparently, Roy & HG was a really popular Australian show, and Fatso the wombat is a mascot that won the gold medal for ‘bombing’ — diving. Roy & HG have a whole series called “The Dream” in which they spew random commentary for real Olympic sport footage. This one was the best.
WIP
bad at laundry.
The Rat Chronicles 