The only problem I foresee with being gainfully employed is that I have almost zero free time. Those six weeks of desperate unemployment weren't wasted on laziness; on the contrary, I was very productive. The Lair was cleaned regularly. I pounded out artwork like a Fordian assembly line. Holidays came and went, and I participated (albeit reluctantly). I saw my kids frequently.
Now that I'm driving twenty minutes to work at sunrise and coming back at sunset, it suddenly feels like my days have been stolen. As if I've sacrificed - once again - the promise of everything I could be doing for all the things I'm obligated to do. Like paying rent, or buying food to eat.
I have been fortunate enough to have several female friends of a nurturing sort, who have taken pity upon me and bring me food and alcohol. These are not sacrificial offerings to Pan, although I like to pretend they are because it makes me feel less like a charity case and more like a demigod. They're just being nice, which makes me feel like a heel -- but hey, I'm starving, and I've never been known to pass up free booze.
So it now stands that, while I am working full-time again and anxiously await my first paycheck, I'm staring longingly at half-finished or barely-started pieces... My guitar is gathering dust, and I haven't touched the keyboard Chris gave me... I've barely been online and feel disconnected from the world... And I'm back to seeing my kids once a week.
Welcome to The American Dream, eh?
3 comments:
I sacrifice sleep in the wee hours of the morning to steal back a little of that time - doesn't make it easy to function at work though
I often feel like my whole life is stolen from me because of my chosen profession, but it's interesting what it's done for me. I find that I have to be more creative with carving out time for myself, and so I end up being more creative with my artistic endevors. If things try to thwart me, I just let it make me better at what I do. It's definitely a challenge though.
Congratulations on the new job. =)
"These are not sacrificial offerings to Pan, although I like to pretend they are because it makes me feel less like a charity case and more like a demigod."
fuck that shit. i thought you were PAN! mystical sylvan satyr, master of the sleazepipes, greek-like god of gettin' it on. pull yourself together and stop being so goddamn emo.
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