The Good Life
Wanna paint this morning. Yesterday morning felt so good. Wrote a tweet, wrote a blog and painted away the rest of the morning. Shame that enjoyment was interrupted by work. Meh, that’s life, isn’t it?
This morning finds me staggered. granted I’m only on my first cup of coffee. That subtle dry tightness around the eyes that announces fatigue is here. Let’s see if I can blink it away . . . No. it’s gonna stay for a bit. I’d better deal. Staying up late with the girlfriend, while most pleasurable, does come with a price. Let this be a cautionary tale.
The time I have before work is meek. A few hours. I want to paint, I have to prep some pictures for an online gallery, gotta shoot some of the paintings I’ve finished. The conflict over which to do is ongoing. Work is fine and I like what I do very much. Fast environment, friendly people, and an income. I don’t like it quite as much as I like doing my little art gig . . . I struggle to think of a softer complaint. I smile a guilty smile and trudge on. I recognize that this is the sign of a good life. If these little wussy complaints are the worst I have to worry about, then I’m doing damned fine.
I’m very amused now.