I actually had a little free time this evening so I decided to use the camera for something other than snapshots tonight. Poor camera, she’s so sad, it’s been like using a racehorse for pony rides.
August’s SPC theme is self-portrait with pattern. I realize it’s technically still July, but I’m going ahead with the new theme because it’s easier and I don’t have to leave the house to do it. I don’t get to leave the house at all much any more, and if I do I’m never alone. Feels a bit like I’m under house arrest at times. It’s oddly confining and some may think it strange that I’d say that since I’m naturally somewhat of a recluse, but it’s different when it’s my own choice I guess.
Oh, poor me. When I was a kid and acting like a pitiball, my mother would mock me mercilessly. She’d probably repeat some part of what I just complained about in a snively voice, followed by “boo hoo, I feel for you but I just can’t reach ya.” Man I hated it when she did that and I hate it even more that every time I whine a little bit that’s the first thing that pops into my head now. I didn’t actually even understand what she meant but I did know that I sure wasn’t going to get any sympathy.
Mom wasn’t big on sympathy in general, she was pretty tough at times and I always attributed it to her being German (because that’s what my father told me not because I was gifted at stereotyping). Well, I suppose it cut down on a lot of needless attention seeking and hey, no one can ever accuse my sister and I of being mollycoddled. Not that anyone has ever even come close to labeling me the victim of mollycoddling mind you, I just wanted to use the word.
Great SPC miss!
