Repressing Memories of Deadlines Passed

On Monday I decided reading once in awhile isn't such a bad idea.  Peek at what others are doing, support the industry, look smart that sort of thing, but now I'm not too sure.  Someone recommended a book which begins with the dog dying.  At least Old Yeller offered up a few happy moments before--you know.  I can't say any more about it because I haven't read it, but I suspect I won't fall out of bed laughing.

This week was all about working on the secret projects that give me goosebumps.  And no, not another greeting card those goosebumps are because it's cold and I'm naked.  Actually, the last Christmas card wasn't so bad because the string of lights and tinsel were surprisingly warm.  I'm talking about magical goosebumps that only appear when you're doing exactly what you were put on Earth to do.  One project is for me and no one else will ever see it.  You might see parts of it, but you won't know it's from it or I'll never be able to write it.  The other I hope you'll see because showing it off is the reason I'm doing it; showing it off and goosebumps.  I'm having way too much fun right now to even pretend it's work.

Yeah, about the title.  Perhapsing here, but creating 126 illustrations in three months was thinking too ambitiously.  Sometimes I hate the mortal limitations of time and attention span.  They're inversely related, if you think about it.