sometimes i get the rabies real hard

i’m just gonna
phone it in
today
seems my rabies
is having itself
a
flare-up
& no one
especially not me
can do
anything
right.

it is difficult to tell if it is just my normal bad disposition or if it is a symptom of my impending crone-dom (don’t tell anyone, but this is my last year as a forty-something.)
but i get so fucking snarky sometimes.
so fucking snarky.
my poor kids know to hide & not draw fire…the dog puts herself in her crate…while i wreak havoc. go on a rampage. vent like a steaming hot tea kettle with little self-regulation…usually triggered by any signs that anyone expects domesticity out of me.
i am like the you in the song “dead sea” by the lumineers:
you told me you were good at running away
domestic life it never suited you like a suitcase

when i feel caged, i get especially vicious.
nothing like four kids and a house in bad need of cleaning to make one feel caged…or it’s menopause.
i really can’t tell the difference.
on an unrelated note (not really,) my current dowry is a six pack of flying dog’s raging bitch beer.



inktober 10th & 11th…ish

there’s a story behind this. but i don’t know what it is.

that was the 11th. for the 10th i phoned it in once more with a half done inking.

inktober10

and it is still not finished.
my life is overwhelming.
i am very angry about being alone. about doing this alone. so angry. and depressed. and feeling like this is it. this is the rest of my life. i am essentially alone–but! i am also stuck with dusty in my life. i am stuck with raising four kids mostly by myself while their dad complains that he wants to be more involved and i have to remind myself that it is a trick. their dad is an angler fish dangling “normal family” in front of me and hoping i will take a nibble. because he never actually gets involved even when he can be involved. he doesn’t. and i have to keep reminding myself of that.
which is a lot of fun.

fuck.

so i’m grumpy and moody and do not feel like doing anything even though i know that doing something would help me to feel better.

just putting pen to paper makes me feel better.

pages seven, eight, and nine

i’m feeling a bit crappy today.
i didn’t get morning sleep, which is where my good dreams are–the ones that speak to me. and then light bulbs burned out and my camera left out in the rain by a belligerent 11 year old and all i can do is worry about money to replace these things and i don’t have any money and i am so so tired of people treating me like crap….

so here are my latest illustrations.
i like them & i hate them & i just want to go back to bed.

and i have no beer & no coffee
and, again, no money.
poop.

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