
ye old feast or famine dilemma as they say.
well as the clock strikes 12:03a.m. the midnight oil is officially burning again with holiday cards mocking my penmanship; a dog whimpering his way to the front door; my best friend and i in need of hugging the other rather than a pillow, or the dog for that matter;
and a pile of laundry that's seemingly replicating itself in an hourly fashion.
but... i wouldn't trade it at all because, really, there's nothing like the stench of creativity in the morning.
1 comment:
Whoa that's alotta whitey-tighties.
At least you don't have kids all up in your mixxx.
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