ATF: Insurance: Stick a Fork In It!

 YEAH! YEAH! YEAH!
The insurance crap is DONE!
Today was the absolute last day to go over, copy and fax receipts. King and I sat down and went through them as a team. (We have been known to have good teamwork on occassion.)
It only took about three hours. We ate bacon, and I had toast and coffee. 

We both feel great, and a huge emotional burden has been lifted. Now on to the other things on my TooDoo, like an awesome new project.


FUCK YEAH!
Go do something nice for yourself. You have my permission.

ATF: Two Years

 I wrote a beautiful, emo post just for myself, and this one for you all.

I feel pretty good. There's nothing about the last two years, from the fire on, that I would trade. Not one, good or bad. I wish I'd gotten more work done, but I always do.  
The insurance is done. There's another (fucking) kitten in the house. I'm starting the New Year single. My studio floor has got paint all over it, but that's because my son lived to wreck it. Summer, who saved me and Fox, is in the next room on her computer, I can hear her chair creaking.

For the first time that I can remember, I see myself moving forward. I'm not netted by a twenty-three-year-long starter marriage. Just about this time last year, Comic Book Tattoo started, and I was absolutely right that it would be huge and my comeback. Ha! 
I deal with shit better. Disappointments get shrugged off, I know annoyances will pass. Two years of fire busy has put a lot of bad shit two years behind me doublequick.
I'm still afraid and worried about things, things like my son's future or my daughter's ability to function as an adult. But not things like disapproval, someone's imagined social status or authority--what can anyone with a temper, alleged class or a rule book do to scare you after you almost die? I had a minute to live, no one gets to have what I have left unless I say so.

I say I'm going to go play Katamari Damacy and draw! 

Love to each and every one of you.