The other salvage yard find yesterday was three little doors that match the sink cabinet, they're going to become the fronts of tilt-out bulk bins for rice and flour.
Variable cognitive ability definitely least fav part of bipolar disorder. It's so easy to finish tasks and remember what I'm doing but I know it's not going to last and I constantly have to monitor for, like, am I getting *too* excited, is it time to self-exile back into the bedrotting dimension?
I have been trying to leave the house for the past two hours to go buy plywood, but it's like trying to force myself to put my hand into a fire, only worse, because my hand is just meat and what the public burns away is my humanity. I hate it here so much.
LOOK AT IT! LOOK AT HOW IT FITS! /I EYEBALLED THAT AT THE SALVAGE YARD/.
WELP, when I calculated the minimum vertical clearance required for these tilting bins, I failed to account for the front face thickness increasing the diagonal measurement 🫠 I can't make a taller housing at this point so tomorrow I have to make insect-proof flour/rice bins instead.
Some manga pages I drew for fun!!!!
(I don't actually bedrot, it's against my programming; instead I wander around unable to orient and occasionally trying to brute-force a productive task, which will inevitably turn out wrong and make me feel worse)
It's not that they succeed in making me feel stupid and animalistic (they do succeed in making me feel fat and ugly), it's that hating people is bad for one's soul, and I H A T E.
Your wizard friend in the Japanese countryside. Gardening, antique restoration, long bike rides, and little animals. 🏳️⚧️ they/them
