Birds of a Feather aren't Twins

(orig. sculpture by R. L. Blair)

AND you can't make someone love you. 

I'm enduring yet another string of Special Needs' cancellations; all respiratory issues, poor babies. So…after a 12 hour Sleep Fest, I decided to do some arting with my bit of "extra" time this morning. I'm a little annoyed with the result. Maybe because I keep slipping into my thoughts from overnight napping.

I'm annoyed because I've…attached?…myself to…me? I can't even call it, "dating" and I wouldn't dare go so far as calling it a "relationship". Yet here in the 'Hut I sit with no desire to see anyone else. Even worse, I'm becoming…jealous. 'Totally breaks every rule in the Fuck-Buddy Rule Book. pfffft.

I'm almost compelled to let my Past Loves know that yes, Denise is "getting her karma". I believe I have found my True Equal and, after a year, it sorta sucks.

But that's just one facet on my life right now so up/over/under/out I go. Is it Friday?