I went to work on photos last night.
Photoshop refused to load.
I had to shut down the entire computer at that point. Not the Beast’s fault. Clearly a software issue.
*sigh*
It was really the punctuation to a rather hard day. The cats have taken it upon themselves to leave bodily fluids of every description on every surface they can find. No one can take Lou or Speckle which breaks my fucking heart. So I’m getting them the full set and spectrum of shots and chips and letting them outside. Because keeping them indoors is destroying everything I own and making me want to cry on a weekly basis.
Yesterday was the first time ever in my life that I wished I didn’t have pets.
Oh, and my husband broke his leg and walked around on it for two weeks. Yeah. That happened.
The edit continues to be a slog.
The press continues to accrete mass.
But I haven’t painted in weeks and I haven’t looked at photos and that part of my brain wants to scream.
Send an assistant with a bottle of Patron. I’ve got a lot of work to do.
Originally published at Angela N. Hunt. You can comment here or there.