Pedes or 3 Eevees in a coatI have, a'propos something completely unrelated, realized a particular anxiety spike I get at a certain stage of creative projects is something that's happening because of shit my father used to do. In this case it should be easier to deal with (I wasn't sure WHAT it was, now that I do I can learn to ignore it) than another thing I figured out quite recently, which will be much harder to root out, but bad stuff added when you were just building up your habits from ground up can be so messy ugh.
Only vaguely related but I once again I remembered the time when, for Xmas, my dad took up the pot with Bigos to put out on the balcony in my room(since it was freezing outside and the fridge was full) and since he needed to free his hands he put the pot on my desk, right on top of my pile of drawings. Not out of malice; he didn't even CONSIDER anything on my desk might be important enough not to get bigos on it. Yes I was sitting right there. No he wouldn't put it on his or my mom's papers.