Despite the heat...and we're talking Houston heat in friggin' Buffalo...I've been drinking lots of hot tea, with honey and milk. It's my power drink. If I don't have a cup by me while I'm writing, I don't feel complete. Only problem is, it makes me pee like crazy.
It hasn't been much use the last couple of days, however, because I'm swamped with packing jobs. Off to Rochester in the morning for one, driving down to NYC on Sunday to do one on Monday, followed by another one on Tuesday and Wednesday, followed by ANOTHER one on Thursday in New Jersey on the coast, followed by one more on Friday...maybe. Depends on how things go.
I like having the work, and it's actually beginning to look like I'll be working through August instead of the office shutting down and me being without a paycheck for a couple weeks. I keep trying to get on top of that, but too many outside expenses keep screwing me up.
What the hell...Van Gogh was crap when it came to finances, too, and only sold a couple of his paintings in his lifetime. Maybe I'll wind up that way, albeit with both my ears...though I did have one pierced, for a while, if that could count.
A lot of artists are crappy when it comes to making a living. Edgar Allen Poe died penniless. So did Mozart. It may be hubris on my part to hold myself in their company, but I've been working on my ego, again, and this is good sign.
For a narcissistic megalomaniac.
Atfer all...this little saying fits me to a T. Hee-hee-hee.
It hasn't been much use the last couple of days, however, because I'm swamped with packing jobs. Off to Rochester in the morning for one, driving down to NYC on Sunday to do one on Monday, followed by another one on Tuesday and Wednesday, followed by ANOTHER one on Thursday in New Jersey on the coast, followed by one more on Friday...maybe. Depends on how things go.
I like having the work, and it's actually beginning to look like I'll be working through August instead of the office shutting down and me being without a paycheck for a couple weeks. I keep trying to get on top of that, but too many outside expenses keep screwing me up.
What the hell...Van Gogh was crap when it came to finances, too, and only sold a couple of his paintings in his lifetime. Maybe I'll wind up that way, albeit with both my ears...though I did have one pierced, for a while, if that could count.
A lot of artists are crappy when it comes to making a living. Edgar Allen Poe died penniless. So did Mozart. It may be hubris on my part to hold myself in their company, but I've been working on my ego, again, and this is good sign.
For a narcissistic megalomaniac.
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