Last night I discovered what the term sleep paralysis means. I have experienced this once before but I don’t recall having a name for it. I suppose it’s quite natural for a person with cPTSD to experience such a thing when the expletive in the temu gold-sprayed polystyrene decor house takes us to within an hour of a nuclear holocaust, and we are sat wondering what actually happens when those expletives nuke one of the largest fossil fuel reserves on the planet. Good luck getting back from the other side of the moon, chums.
Painting was done today. I don’t feel like sharing, so I’m sharing another thing I did today. I got some of these cute trouser hangers that interlock with each other vertically. I have no interest in organising clothes this way, these are for works on paper, and they are perfect. The only problem I have is that a pack of ten might have been overly optimistic.
Glad we all survived,
Til the morn,
Suzanne
781/800
Thrummie Bizzum 
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