The title "sorry about that last one" on the post immediately before this was meant to signify my move away for verbose self reflection. Turns out I wasn't ready to give that up, but now I am.
We got a request from Still Life, a small hipster's paradise in San Francisco. They are interested in carrying some of our items in their store and needless to say, the prospect is exciting.
Today a girl sent a message inquiring about having some artwork printed for her on tote bags or shirts and that prospect is also exciting. I sent her some info about pricing, hopefully she'll at least respond. The last time I sent anything out I never heard a peep, which made me seriously doubt our prices. Hopefully, though, those other people were just browsing, not actually interested in getting down to business which - let's all face it - costs money. It's a unfortunate evil, the spending of money.
Which brings me to my next point: I should never go out, or perhaps I should go out more often. It had been a long time since the Roberts family ventured out of Oxford and we found ourselves in Colerain with the 815 crew. By the time the trip was over I had spent way too much money, and when I got home I just kept going and spent about that much again. Some of it was for giggles, some of it business. I had an itch to buy something and scratched it so hard my bank account started bleeding. I shouldn't get urges, because I can't control myself. Maybe going out more often would keep those urges at bay, but more than likely I'd just spend more money over a longer period of time. Eh, the new surround sound system is pretty rad in the living room so I think I'll survive.
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