flying through clouds of uncertainty on wings of existential dread
Hooray! If I do eventually do a counting book with Manic Pixie Otter, remind me that doing it in rhymed couplets is a dumb plan. I’ll still do it, but you’ll have the pleasure of saying ‘I told you so’. Of course, there’s always iambic pentameter. . . and I haven’t written a formal sonnet since high school. . .
Noooooooooooooooooo! (falls down hole of own stupidity)
As soon as I finish this, I need to try to write posts for the next two days, pull out a display costume & mask, pack a bag for Saturday (ideally), print some signage, pack some snacks (shh! don’t tell!), and head out to the convention. I’ll be trying to set up tomorrow and Sunday’s posts to publish automatically, so if you don’t see something, I failed. Sad trombone.
By the way, that’s not a real cat he’s juggling. Neurotic Owl does not endorse juggling cats, geese, or scissors. Or pencils. Or beanbags, really, if you’re clumsy like me.