Wake up, shower with new apple-smelling shampoo. Solid start. Sit down, try to write. Unsuccessful.
Lie in the middle of my basement floor and throw a ball at the roof. Brood.
Write for real. A bit better!
Decide to go for a run.
Get back and don't want to write. Spend time looking up potential art jobs.
I may have gotten a job as a graphics designer. I'm a sellout!!!
May have gotten a job as a drum teacher.
Scanned 32 pieces of art and digitally edited the color so they don't look retarded.
Realized that I still hate looking at half of them on a computer screen.
Hatch plan to invent new technology that will make the art appear taped to the person's computer monitor.
Realize I'm wasting time dreaming of a project that isn't real.
No. Do NOT write a blurb on this piece of... oh, great. Thanks, brain.
Try to update HTML and Java coding in my website because I'm an IDIOT and mixed the two.
Fail.
My website looks exactly the same.
Get an art commission. For abstract painting. I've never done an abstract painting before.
Do my first ever abstract painting in 15 minutes on a small canvas. They're right. A 5-year-old can do it.
Sit in self-disappointment over a canvas that I randomly scribbled paint onto and called art.
Scan it anyways and send it away to customer. Laugh when they're impressed.
Hatch a plan to make more and make MILLIONS.
Realize it won't happen and lie back down on the basement floor to throw the ball again.
Throw the ball some more.
Keep throwing the ball.
Realize that extreme habits of brooding and lack of motivation is indicative of depression.
Panic.
Realize that sometimes I'm just lazy and broody.
Make hot dogs.
Decide to go back in the blog and "center text" everything.
Realize it's a terrible idea and stop immediately.
Realize I'm making a list of my day and grudgingly attempt to get back to writing.
I have to meet my imaginary deadlines.
Or I can re-watch all of the Lord of the Rings movies.
My evening doesn't stand a chance.
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