Happy Tuesday, y’all. It’s another morning. But… it’s not a snowy morning. Silver linings, amiright? I woke up before sunrise, with both cats pinning me in place. Fortunately, I finagled my way into a more comfortable position. I had to readjust a few times, as my chest decided to fuck with me. I finally dug my inhaler out of the goblin stash under a pillow and took a couple of hoots off it. After one more adjustment – enough to prompt Chaucer to leave the bed – my lungs stopped fighting me. With two hours before Shawshank needed to be awake, I had plenty of time to edit pics from yesterday’s photo shoot.
I spent much of yesterday afternoon doing smutty stuff. It snowed yesterday, so the light was perfect for it. It was another dress-up kinda set; two weeks ago, it was clown day, yesterday was milf day. I wanted to take pics with the blonde wig before it starts to look frizzy and fake. I also spent some time entering some updated media metrics. One of the things that the creator-focused subreddits always advises newbies is to lean into your niches, and the hashtag tracker is showing that’s really fucking solid advice. My general tags – things like #over40 or #mature – don’t perform nearly as well as the more specific tags.
After dinner, I played some Skyrim. I’m still playing the punch-cat. I’m still bad, but it’s improving. I’m still sneaking around, because the sneak archer runs deep. I have a terrible habit of trying to whop on foes from the crouched position and doing fuck-all to them until I remember to stand up.
Since pics have been edited, I’ll spend a couple of hours this afternoon scheduling content drops. I feel terrible having so much fucking promo in my timeline. Scrolling my timeline is similar to Instagram these days: two pics and an ad.
