Demon Romp

It's a rainy Sunday afternoon here in my world. I walked the dogs early this morning before the bulk of the rain set in. I came home and slept a little longer. There's nothing like coming out of the damp air and getting under a warm blanket. I made a large pot of beef vegetable soup without catching anything on fire. The sump pump is happily plugging along with it's check valve in place and all is right with the world. I have a new doorknob on the back door and the banister is now on the wall instead of laying on the floor.

You may be asking yourself at this point, why does she still feel like shit? The answer my friends is because it's 5:00 p.m. This seems to be the pre determined hour for my demons to have a little walk about before bed. So here's the deal guys. I'll give you your little time to remind me that I'm a failure and sinking in to the financial abyss, and I'll let you tell me all about how I lie...and my feet stink....and I don't love Jesus, and I'll let you reflect upon why I am currently painting yet another portrait of Nickolai when I'll never make any money painting my own freakin dog, if you'll pack your shit and be gone by 7:00.

I'm tired of fighting these demons. I'm going to give them their time. Party on fellas because despite what you say, the part of me that exists beyond my ability to completely fuck it up is firmly in charge. As my sister Ann reminded me this week......"that little voice can only yell so loud.......and for so long before it tires" A strange thing happens when you throw the door open wide for a little demon romp. They decide that now may not be the best time for them. Could you please call back to reschedule? It seems that inner demons like to break down doors that you think you've locked, but can't seem to walk through any that you've opened freely for them.

figures

they are a cowardly lot.

.....but they are my own, and in some strange, all together counter productive and genuinely shitty way, they push me to take chances and operate outside of my comfort zone. Lets face it people.......without a little nudge, or more accurately a resounding bitch slap, I might never push myself through the weeds en route to a new direction. They don't call it a "comfort zone" for nothing yanno.

OK.......so I'm painting another portrait of Nickolai right now. Whats your point?!?

Bastards.