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📓 Thursday, November 13, 2025 — 10:40 a.m.
Sitting here in my comfortable chair in front of the TV, coughing away my lungs.
Trying to relax — if you can call it that — while coughing so hard it hurts.
Soon I’ll be touching the streets again with my white van, trying to sell more plastic bag cases in L.A. But first, I’m trying to slow myself down enough to actually do my job.
Later, I have to find the time to draw — and yes, draw, to the best of my ability.
My father missed his dentist appointment this morning. Why?
Because of his loop — his brain lives in the world of I’m running late, there’s never enough time, everything is survival, over and over and over.
He rushed through his breakfast and called me:
“Move your van! I’m running late for my appointment!”
My white van started — vroom — the rumble filling the air.
The white gate opened so the white van could exit our little ghetto Camelot.
My father — with his thin white hair and his bottle-neck glasses (they look that way because his eyes look giant when he wears them) — got in the car with my mother. They were off to his appointment before he, too, goes off to sell his plastic bags.
Ring ring.
“Your father missed his appointment.”
What the fuck? He just left.
Turns out, a block away from the house, the city was cutting the street trees.
A worker stood there with a STOP sign, waving cars around to the other block.
My father — dear father — didn’t.
Poof. Photo taken.
“They took your photo.”
“Oh, no.”
And then, boom — another text — while I’m typing this on my laptop, still watching the Mike Mignola documentary:
“Your father says he’s late because I didn’t hurry enough with breakfast. These fuckers are always taking up the streets. Argh!”
Always someone else’s fault.
Late? I think similar.
Example: it’s getting late for me to go sell. It’s almost 11 a.m. and I haven’t cleaned up my studio and I’m watching this doc.
Why?
Maybe I just want to do something that makes being late feel okay.
Maybe… enjoy your breakfast, enjoy your day, be okay with being late.
Cough, cough, cough.
Thanks if you read this mix of words that might just be randomness.
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