As moving day approaches, Eric and I have been talking about all the cool shit we want to do at the new house. We want to plant a vegetable garden, and build a portable herb garden, and start a compost pile, and install rain barrels, and make a darkroom, and adopt a puppy and train it really well, and buy in bulk and cook all the time and he wants to sculpt and I want to write and learn to screen print and of course draw hands, and, and, and...it's all very exciting, and I'm sure we'll do some of it. But whoever these people are who would actually do all this stuff all the time, I don't know when they would have time to work. Or sit around drinking beer and endlessly looking at the internet. I'm a little annoyed with these people already, to be honest.
I mean, give me a break; I've been a slug for 32 years, and now just because I'll be paying a bank instead of a bitch every month, I'm going to turn into some magic miracle of productivity? Seems unlikely. Still, I'm excited and inspired, and if I can get around to doing half that stuff, I'll be pretty thrilled.