Today, I paid off the last of my student loans. Hooyah!
Mind you, that chunk of monthly cash will probably now go over to paying my own health insurance, but still, it's nice to get that particular weight off my chest. Back! Back, damn'd loans! With whip and chair and check, I drive thee back! From hell's heart, I stab at thee! Etc!
So I feel good about that. I cannot say that the education it funded is being put to its expected use, but it did lead to a lot of nice anthropological tidbits in Digger, and I have no particular regrets. I love what I do, and however I got here, it was worth it.
Things are generally going quite well. I'm still artistically pretty burnt--working on a few existing projects of the gotta-get-this-done variety, but no inspiration for new paintings. (The one that was going well was going well, but may have passed the mental sell-by date, alas...) Still, this is totally normal for me post-Con season, and it's a lot worse than usual this year, since in addition to Con-crush, I had all the final rewrites for Nurk AND that L.A. gig, which in a two-month stretch like that would leave better women than I wrung out like a dishrag. So I'm not feeling all that guilty. (A little guilty. But y'know.) I figure I've got until about the middle of next month before I have to start painting or I'll hate myself.
And there's some other rockin' stuff goin' on on various fronts, which I cannot blog about at the moment, but which are indeed majorly rockin'.
And life is good.
And also, apropros of nothing, I saw "Priscilla, Queen of the Desert" for the first time the other day, and I just wanna know--who the hell saw Hugo Weaving as a scrawny insecure drag queen and yelled "THERE! That's my Agent Smith!" ?! I mean, it was a great flick, but...dude...Elrond and Abba crashed together in my brain like the rocks of Salmydessus.* I may never recover.
*Gratuitous reference so that I don't feel like I wasted that Classics minor that I toyed with getting.
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