I do this every year. I mean, seriously, EVERY YEAR.

I think I have three panels at the art show. I make the art to fill three panels. I feel accomplished. I think “Okay. We’re good.”

I get my art show pamphlet, open it up, and discover that YET AGAIN I have requested five panels at the art show. (I always request five panels. Why do I always forget this?) I utter a noise like a drop-kicked tree frog. I panic.

Every year.

I’m starting to think this repetition indicates some kind of mental block on my part, maybe as a coping mechanism. I can’t face five empty panels, so I mentally reduce it to three, a number I can handle. Then at the eleventh hour, I find myself with two more panels to fill. And every year I shriek and my chest fills up with small screaming animals with tiny scratchy feet clawing their way over each other, and I pump out two panels worth of art.

Every year.

You think eventually I’d learn…