So, I'm having trouble. Lot's of trouble. I'm having a hard time separating Doug the Waiter from Doug the Artist. I have this feeling deep inside that I need to chose one. I suppose if that's true then I've gotta pick Doug the Waiter, if only because he's the one bringing in the money. I'm not angry, or depressed, or frustrated, but maybe I'm a bit of all three. I went back to waiting tables full time because my wife's job was eliminated. Just like that. No warning, no severance, just an oh-yeah-I-guess-we-don't-need-you-right-now. So, I get on the horse and go back to waiting tables four days a week (you see, I was down to one day a week, just in case, while I did art). And it was painful ( mostly because when I was diagnosed with diabetes and was in intensive care for three days I lost a lot of my muscle tone). No chance to ease back in. My legs and feet screamed at me at the end of every shift. I'd come home and just lay down because I didn't have the energy to do anything else. My art just kinda slipped away. I built my strength back up and now it's not so bad, yet I still don't feel like doing anything creative. I do some painting here and there, but it's not speaking to me the way it used to. I'm finishing up a commissioned portrait that I need to have finished (and should have already finished) and delivered by Christmas. It's not coming along like it should have and it's stressing the fuck out of me. Perhaps another sign it's time to lay my brushes down and commit to being the best waiter I can be. I feel like everything I had built up artwise I let slip away. Maybe it's all my fault. Maybe I don't deserve to be a full time artist. I don't know. I'm sure someone will tell me. I can't seem to sell enough art to break even on supplies, so, I'll just treat it like an expensive hobby I can no longer afford. For everyone who has supported me along the way, thank you. From the bottom of my heart. Maybe some day I'll feel more like Doug the Artist. I suppose anything's possible.
DOUG
