As this is a journal bump, I want to extend additional thanks to those who wished me a happy birthday last month (I plum forgot to make an entry for that, I was so exhausted after coming back from Disneyland on Halloween, which was awesome, but next time, I'll get my candy from Godiva or See's instead, because the cheaper ones have really gone downhill recently).
In other related birthday news, we celebrated echochan
's birthday last week on Monday -- we went to a place called Tip Top Meats, which is a specialized grocery store and restaurant specializing in European-style meats, including other such meats not usually found at a Vons or the like, such as buffalo, veal, venison, etc. No rabbit, however
The meals we had at the restaurant were delicious, and it's such a joy to watch one-tough-one
enjoy his steak dinner like a happy child
Just seeing anyone I care for enjoying their meal makes me happy.
Too Pusheen-Lazy to Draw
For some reason, both Mom and I have been rather lazy as of late in our creative endeavors: she's more concerned about uncluttering up her homespace (Spring Cleaning in November, waddyaknow?), and I think my Zoloft experiment has managed to isolate the depression, but my anxiety seems to be getting the better of me, and when that flairs up, it awakens depression from its slumber, so I'll need to talk with my psychiatrist about that next. I was able to finish a piece last week, which was a second attempt, but I'm still not really too happy about it, so I doubt it will see the screen of day on DA, FA and the like, but I am planning on donating it, mat-frame and all, to the Twilight Tours at the Rosecrans EFBC come 2015, along with a load of other big-cat-related swags we've collected over the end of this year. I would like to make a third attempt to doing it again, and do it right, but I was able to find some of my other older personal works, and I like to at least finish that by the end of this week.
Fear of Jobs?
It's probably true for most of us artists we hate the idea of a nine-to-five doldrums job, but as Dad's retirement draws closer, Mom's salary drying up at the labs (grant-writing can be rather nail-biting), and Sis on the verge of looking for another job for a higher income, it seems that I might have to... get one of those things for myself to help support the family and myself... since I'm slowly going nowhere with my art
It doesn't help that what happened four years ago is still affecting me, and I still don't know how to go about talking about it without any troll-flaming and misconceptions about my position on a lot of things.
But here's the thing about having a job in the good ol' U.S. of A.: when it comes to crafting skills, it's outsourced like the dickens. When it comes to manual labor, it's given to those who're willing to work like a serf rather than a human being with right to health and dignity. When it comes to working in general, it's not as fun as it used to be when a child or teen. We're talking about Recovering Teen Disorder over here. When all of those aforementioned job options are taken away, the only thing left is the service industry, which is a total nightmare.
I don't like dealing with people. I really don't like dealing with them. I really, really, REALLY don't like the idea of dealing with people when they're always right no matter how wrong they are. It was bad enough I got a load of that tripe back at home from my loser father, whom we all found out is GROSSLY wrong in a lot of things, and being paid a less-than-livable wage to deal with that from STRANGERS doesn't appeal to me at all. The only time I find myself enjoying dealing with people is when we're on the same wavelength: other artists, geeks and nerds at a convention, and usually animal lovers (but even they can get a little carried away beyond PETA levels).
I remember being used to dealing with people, but when certain past events happened, I found myself not wanting to do that anymore after losing a heck of amount of faith in the human race. I find myself rather to greet a pet than the owner of the pet.
Which is why maybe signing up for the Office Professional Training program at Grossmont Community College might be a good idea. Not only do they promise employment upon completing the training program, there are sub-sections of office-related jobs, which leads me to believe that a position as a receptionist at a veterinarian's clinic would be most enjoyable to me: not only would I get to deal with people who're of the same wavelength as me, I also get to greet their adorable pets. Realistically, it wouldn't be the first job imediately found upon graduation, but it's at least a job search goal while I am employed. I've even found myself wanting to do such work at a dental office or a hospital to show my gratitude to them, especially at the hospital for keeping me alive without my paying for anything!
Plus, it would get me out of the apartment.
The downside, of course, would be that I wouldn't work on art anymore. But only because my energy level is crap, and a job, regular exercise and a good diet seems to be the solution to get the gumption I've seen a lot of artists have, in which they become successful enough in their art that they can quit their day job and continue to create for money.
So on the upside, it's only temporary, provided I can get my life back in order, including getting the damn meds to work for me
Still. Would this be the right thing to do under the situation? Am I following the same steps as my sister in which she's utterly, utterly exhausted from work every day that she doesn't want to do anything except play games afterward and half-ass on chores/errands? Will I become obsessed like my father that I'll become a soulless husk with no interest and personality other than "grouch-face-itis"? I wanna know if I'm not making a terrible mistake that will end up like the Art Institute nonsense.
Any help would do at this point.