This is horrible. I am now down to one or two days to finish the dayjob tasks I should have finished days ago. The deadlines are my own, but I like to be a bit ahead so I have spare time when the holiday haze finally lifts. However my heart has been so unwilling and my body has connived to shut down in one way or another whenever I would make the hard push to get things done.
I have been beating around the proverbial bush, in ever-widening circles. Although yesterday I managed to make a mental link somehow to the train of thinking I need to ride in order to do a good job of the work I must do. I'm still on board but I'm hanging by a single hand and foot and getting distracted by the passing scenery...
I have not been entirely unproductive though, let me make that clear. I was merely unproductive when it came to the work itself, but I was prolific everywhere else. It does seem like I have a lot to do still in making my disparate lives and selves play well together. The severe lack of space and sunlight in my spot where I live aggravate the whole situation.
Today I am dragging myself over to the cafe across the main street and will stay there all afternoon and churn out at least one of two sets of documents I am supposed to churn out. The rest I will do tomorrow morning, and finish just in time to for the changing of the year. For this I have pinched a budget from what I have left after Christmas (that paycheck delay has certainly added a dark cloud to everything), and I pinched enough to feed myself well afterwards.
I know very few people will relate, because most people are just somehow able to do what needs to be done when it comes to work duties and responsibilities, about taking care of the practical aspects of life. I used to be like that, before I realised what I really want to be and what I really want to do. I risk being labeled ungrateful, to be so resistant to this "blessing" of a source of income. But I cannot help how I look at things, and how I see beyond the immediate short-term rewards, and how the fruits of my labour are more than being able to pay the bills and buy necessities or even being able to pursue some personal goal. I keep hoping I could live as decently doing something else that do not contribute to the perpetuation of a society with values I wish, with my art, to inspire to change.
Lately I have been getting sick a lot. Small pains and aches and illy sensations every time I remember that I will be trading off a bit of soul for a bit of gold. I try to look beyond even more, lengthen my vision, try to calculate how in the end I will redeem myself and my decisions. That it will all even out, cancel out any ill consequences from the deals I made with devils, even earn me a bit of goodwill and perhaps even a divine boon.
Meanwhile, I eke out the occasional art piece, which has been quite a challenge as I awkwardly navigate through the repeated attempted shifts between being artist and being dayjob professional. I often end up straddling, as I always try to find an integration point. I hope to find it soon.