We can't afford to laundromat, so washing must be done in-house. And if I want the washing I gathered up months ago to get done, I'm the only one who can do it. Huzzah?
Gotta count my cheevs because otherwise I will wind up crying.
One wash done. Lovelies offski to parts unknown, mission also unknown. Breakfast dealt with. Coffee et cetera taken care of. Emails done. [Not thinking about the comics cataloguing, the book, whether or not I've got anything for Patreon, or the hours in the day I have to accomplish anything]
All ready to write for the day and, perhaps, get some art done for the cover. There's a limited amount of time before that's due out the door so I must focus on getting that accomplished.
My ankle hates me, today. Wrapping it up and walking around with a cane is temporarily helping. I shall ask my physio about full treatment for the thing and enlist my lovelies in helping. I am sick and tired of this stupid fucking ankle.
But those are long term plans. The sooner I finish a tale, the more time I have for arting the cover.
Onwards.