Zine-production, oh how I missed thee!!!!!!
The tap-tapping sounds of the typewriter, the smell of the glue, the stripes of cut paper falling all around, the sticky fingers, the zine coming together with total punk rock DIY perfection… Motherfucking A! What a feeling!
Today was Writing Thursday, but instead of sitting down to continue my random musings on my husband’s laptop, I decided to take advantage of my free morning to start my IZM 2018 zine layout.
There were a few things standing in my way and I tried to get them out of there as fast as I could.
- Dinner: I’m planning Ravioli for tonight and as such, I need to make the sauce for it. I use fresh mushrooms that need to be peeled and chopped. And since that shit takes me forever, I couldn’t leave it for tonight because then we would sit to eat super late, by which time both my husband and I are starving and my daughter is super hangry and super tired. So taking care of the fucking mushrooms struck a whole fucking half hour from my morning.
- Lunch: I had nothing already made so I needed to make me a sandwich for this afternoon. Strike another 30 minutes.
- Dishes: Cooking breeds a mountain of dishes. And if I were to leave these for tonight, the mountain would only get higher. Stike another 15 minutes.
- Sleep: Since I already knew this list of things would need to be done before I can get on with my writing Thursday, I also knew I’d have to wake up early to get it done. But alas, the call of the pillow was far too powerful and I slept in until the ungodly hour of 8:20 when I had to see my daughter off to gan and have breakfast.
After doing all this shit and setting up my workspace, I only sat down by my typewriter at 10:20. I pulled my beautiful machine, my pretty shiny red Rosie, aka Rose Madder, out of her box, slipped in an A6 size paper, set the margin and started making a whole bunch of noise.
As I was working, I was delirious with joy, laughing occasionally, flashing back to a time in my life where I had all the time in the world to make a whole bunch of paper art magic. And here I was now, back with my typewriter, my scissors, my glue stick, my papers, my backgrounds, all neatly set up.
I was still madly typing away, with the tips of my fingers slowly developing bruises, when the clock struck 11.
With angry Amon Amarth playing in the background and the DIY rush flowing through my veins, I stood up fast, nearly toppling my chair, pointed at the clock and screamed:
“FUCK YOU, CLOCK!! FUCK YOU!”
I had no more than 30 minutes left to revel in zine production before I had to start getting ready to go to work.
Of course, I lost track of time and of course, I missed my bus. But nothing could destroy my mood this morning. I can’t wait for my next free morning (which I’m planning for Sunday) for my fingers to get bruised up some more!
Peace, love and zinester at heart!