Frances.

There are one hundred bazillion people around me right now looking smug and thrilled with all of the work they are getting done on their laptops. I am not getting any work done. I am not getting any work period. Dear Universe, please send me in the direction of a cool job. I nearly started crying at Rabbi's bar today when some turd from Tim Hortons swept over and got the job that I wanted. FML. Oh well, I guess running around my neighborhood (now clear of all teen zombies) in a wool cape and getting-there long hair will have to suffice. Tomorrow I print for the first time in six/seven months. I am shitting my pants with fret. But oh oh oh how I miss being elbow deep in ink and the smells from the solvent room. Puff, puff, pass. I best be off. Lisel and I have our first figure drawing class tonight and I do not know how to draw anymore. Should be interesting.

One more thing. This photo is brilliant and when I saw it, I had a sharp intake of breath. I hope someone will do this over my photos someday. I also hope Frances will be this cool.

Whinging, still.

Jobless in Winnipeg and trying to be calm, Madge.