It is ten days into the NEW YEAR and I didn't even notice.  The days flew by in a haze of panicked madness.  I have been  trying to write, paint, sew, embroider as well as sleep and all the other things that humans do to stay alive...

Arghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...that's me screaming into my pillow. 

Our family income just dropped by $250 a week so times are pretty tough for us.  Right now It is OBVIOUS to me that being an artist/writer is a completely STUPID life choice!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  Especially if we want to eat.  And I should really pull my brain out of my ass and get a "real" job.  
But I can't do a "real" job anymore.  I could no more work in an office or serve over a counter or sell shoes than a Gibbon.
So with that fact ringing in my head like big ben and the survival of my family hanging over me like the sword of damocles, I have to write books, create beautiful 3D art pieces and paint murals.  
Yeyyyy (Irony)
smiling through the madness

My creative process is not a very healthy thing at the best of times but right now it's running full steam and not a lot distinguishes it from Mental Illness.  I forget to wash ( disgusting but true), I don't engage with anyone around me unless I need something urgently and I don't eat either.  (I can tell you now, not eating doesn't make you skinny, it just makes you twenty times hungrier when you get back to into the real life reality.)  WORSE than anything else, I can't sleep.
This is not good when you're Bi-polar.
Although I have to say, I don't mind the the Manic end of Bi-polar.   Being ten foot tall and bulletproof with a genius IQ and super powers is AWESOME but then, at the other end, being stapled to the bed by depression for months on end, wanting to die, isn't a fair exchange.  

For me, the biggest problem right at this point in time are our next door neighbours.  They have basically been on the piss since the beginning of December.   Party...party...party!!!  Yeyyyyy (Sarcasm)   So, if the bass of their fecking music doesn't drive ya crazy, or the the fact my studio/bedroom window is about a metre away from their front door, and they stand out there singing, laughing and smoking until f**k o'clock in the morning, their recycling bin will.  
It is outside their kitchen window, where they do most of their partying, so every five minutes there is *crash smash bang*  as bottles are flung out the window into it.

The way I try to sleep most nights

You'd think from my bolshi attitude I would have leaned out my window and shouted shut the feck up by now, don't ya, but no, I don't,  because my hubby has the habit of listening to 'Fleetwood Mac' at fifty decibels at 1 in the morning when he's on the ran-tan which doesn't give us a leg to stand on ay.  Thanks hun...SLAP!!!

Oh yey its 12.42am and they are on the doorstep yakking up a storm gushing second hand smoke at my window.  Geez.

So, the first bit of the year has disappeared faster than chocolate eclairs out of our fridge.  In the middle of it I had a quick trip back to Porangahau, where my Dad comes from,  which is inspiration for the setting of most of my books, for a reunion as last year I spent months helping plan it but ended up being at the thing long enough to have my photo taken to prove I was there. 
 I drove up and back with my brother in his brand new Merc.  It was great, I got to feel like a rich person for a couple of days-Magic.  

So back to today.  

I am scarily knackered and  melting down about what I have to achieve in a short space of time and found out my dad might drop in.  As I said I hadn't bathed or changed my clothes for days.  I looked liked I'd been dragged through a hedge by the hair and my eyeballs were spinning.   Honestly, the only peeps who gets to see me in that state is my husband and youngest son. So I panicked and freaked out, with the full on hysteria of palpitations and stopped work then tried to clean myself up and he didnt even come...f**k!!!!!!!!!!  

Don't do that to me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  

Ask my husband and son, I'm not great to be around when I'm working.   I have been trying to be more normal and sociable but I CAN'T turn it on and off like a lightbulb.  My creativity grow in the dark like mushrooms and any premature exposure to will sizzle em dry.  

So where was I?  Its ten days into the new year and I'm making a resolution, I'm giving up being normal.  Normal damages me and  the quality of my work.  

Anyway, what the feck is Normal???  

The incredible melt-down woman

PS...Scott, New Years, play a dancing game on X-BOX at my sisters place.
Heyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy Makarena ay...

HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  happy fecking NEW YEAR!!!!!