nur... living in an office working... um... not really. sleeping under a desk is kind of like I have a little fort cardboard box fort.
No.

not really at all. it's more like I'm BSing you and I'm really staying at the home of people I don't really know and sleeping in the room that belongs to there son that's away at college. And I still feel like it's the creepiest and weirdest thing ever. It is not my room or place to sleep it's some one else's space and there posters of Green Day are still up on the wall... and I don't even like Green Day. It's like I'm invading someones space and they don't even know it. I don't know the guy at all... I can't even remember his name right now. I just know that if he knew I had been there for a few days he'd freak out though.

... so anyway. I was supposed to be writing about the pixel art I've been working on. Funny that I spend more and more time shredding paper. It's what they have me do in the office... isn't that an interesting coincidence? My pixel junk is okay. Not bad I suppose, but I'd be happier with hand done work. Pixels are fun for a while... but I just can't get past the whole I have better work I just can't share it crap. I feel like my hand drawn work is just simply better. I'm under a lot of stress with everything... sorry about the whole thing. What can I say...