To say that the past week got on my tits is like saying that Ron Jeremy is someone who prefers to enter a home through the back door. (coughs)
People who don’t pay their bills for months and then verbally abuse you over it are excrement in human form as far as I am concerned. So, yeah, my mental state was not fantastic on Wednesday. You’re in trouble when it’s only Hump Day and you are fucking done.
This probably counts as burying the lede, but today makes it six months, or half a year on the button, since my best friend passed away. I miss the hell out of him. I think of conversations I want to start. Ones I haven’t finished. Things I should have said and didn’t. I even constantly think of dumb shit I’d like to start fights with him over. Photography is a lot harder without him, too. I just haven’t been doing what I should with cameras. Not even Ray’s camera.
I didn’t even have an idea of what I was doing for the daily photo until my clumsy ass tripped over the curb in front of No Frills on a grocery resupply run. I looked down at the flaked paint on the curb and thought it was a good representation of my mental state.
Click.
Mobile phone shoot. Woo-hoo.
