And who said I wasn’t an artist? If you notice the notes, this is way too much information on who I am. I betcha that with such an artistic rendition of myself, if you would actually see me skipping down the street you’d know who I was… Yes, the drawing is THAT good!
Doodie. That’s me. It’s how Booby calls me, I’m his Doodie, Super Doodie, Heavy Doodie, Double Doodie, “get your own Doodie” he always says to others. Sometimes it’s Bad Doodie. Which is actually a good thing. I like being called Doodie. I like that we have geeky nicknames for each other. He’s Booby.
We are lame. We need to get a life.
Today I came to the harsh decision that I no longer want to do the work I do. It’s harsh because it’s all we’ve (as a couple) have ever really known (of our life together, as a couple, of course). I’m afraid of the outcome, as a couple, how we’ll handle doing our separate thing. I’ll have to see. But all I know is I’ve never lasted more than 4 years under the same job. Deadline has come and gone, I’m getting antsy. Funny how on the day I make this decision I draw a self-portrait of myself (double entendre d’ya hear me?) bearing tools and dressed up in work clothes. Except for the tank top. It doesn’t exist. But a tee that says “I plead the 5th” would be a good tee. If you want to attract trouble.