05.17.09
Rainy Day
It's Sunday, and for once, I am happy to see it is a rainy, wet day. That excuses me from all the outdoor "shoulds" and leaves me open to go down to the studio without guilt. Most of the house chores are done, and Jim is sitting in front of the TV as usual, so now the great question is:
What to work on first?
I have ponies to paint for FaerieCon. I have the whip girl and stable boy I've owed Nancy for the past three years for her birthday. I have a Pirate wench illustration that I owe Kraus. And I really need to finish re-stringing my harp. I should start on my display for the Art Museum show. But before any of that, I should clean up the mess in the trailer and put away the fabric goodies Bev gave me last weekend. But then again, my website and online galleries are in desperate need of updating. And the list goes on.
Even with the outdoor chores rained out, I'm still overwhelmed by the lack of time to do the important things in my life.
I should not complain–there are many people out there who have no jobs and are close to losing their homes. I should be glad to have a job. And I am. My complaint is the need to have a job. That my job takes up all my time and leaves me scrambling on the weekends to get things done.
Last weekend at Bev's was fun. We didn't get any sculpting done, but we traded a lot of fabric, went to this insane fabric store and bought a bunch of stuff, and drank and shot the shit out on her screened in porch. Her home is absolutely fabulous–beautifully landscaped, and outrageously creative in it's decor. All that, and Bev doesn't HAVE to have a day job. Her husband is some sort of scientist working in the medical research field. So Bev not only has a beautiful home she's free to decorate lavishly, she DOESN'T HAVE TO WORK A DAY JOB.
I know they've gone through some lean times, and are now reaping the rewards. Good for them–they deserve it. But I can't help feeling a little jealous–here I am after all these years, still just a struggling wage slave working the grind just to make the mortgage on a shitty house that's ready to fall down.
We all make choices in life, and I guess a lot of mine have been stupid and have led me to where I am now. What to do about it–that's the eternal question. The older I get, the more it bothers me, and the faster I find myself hating my job and burning out.
My job is not so bad–I have a really nice office, it's close to home, lots of time off and flexible schedule. Even the work itself is relatively painless, and I find most of my co-workers amiable. But the pay is entry-level, which I accepted because quite frankly, it was better than nothing. So I try to stay detached, to avoid giving too much of a shit about what goes on there, put in my time and go the hell home. It is easier than the bank crap, gives me a bit more time without the insane commute, and hell, I can even ride the Harley in on good days. No I-95 woes.
So I should not complain.
But the tiny paycheck has again set us back, very little being saved if at all, paying minimums on the bills, and watching everything else go up while the pay goes down. Even Jim's overtime keeps getting cut, and that takes a big bite out of things. I'm having a hard time seeing how we're ever going to get out of this rut.
I think I'm going to just go down to the trailer, sit for a bit and then work on whatever strikes my fancy for whatever time I can manage. And that will just have to be OK.
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