So, hey, I imagine a lot of people reading this are creative types. Makers of things and dreamers of dreams. And you all are awesome, but, if you’re anything like me, then you might be neglecting some stuff.
Let me say upfront, I’m an entrepreneur. A freelance worker. A person who runs from mostly one room a shit-ton of different projects and businesses. So, I say this with the utmost understanding: please remember to eat, yeah? Continue reading
I believe the slang term for what I am is duck-footed? I’ve heard bow-legged or flat-footed as well. The simplest way to put it is this: if you look down at your feet, and the toes point forward naturally, congrats, you don’t have what I have. If they curve outward, so that your feet point in two diagonal directions, then you do have what I have. Continue reading
Sally felt stuck in her own body. She sat at the edge of her bed and stared at her hand. It did not fizzle, pop, slurp, or warp. She focused harder, and the skin turned a nice shade of purple. She smiled at that until it faded back to her normal dark skin.
“God fucking dammit!” she swore and ran her hands through her hair. A deep anger jutted through her body. She was on the verge of tears.
“Whoa,” came a voice from the hallway—and a pink furry creature stood in the doorway. “That’s not an okay word, Sally,” it said, its voice guttural. Continue reading