Yesterday as I was on my way to my local box manufacturer to pick up an order of shipping boxes, crawling along in freeway traffic trying to edge around an accident that turned the road into a parking lot, I fondly recalled the days where I hardly left the studio except to go home and sleep. I would get to work as early as possible in the day to throw, trim, decorate, and glaze. I didn't have a computer, employees, a production schedule, or frankly, many customers to distract me from my work. Now, my studio work is only one aspect of what I have to do everyday. And it's very easy for the day to turn into a total clusterfuck.By the time I got through the accident, took the wrong exit and spent another 20 minutes trying to get back to where I needed to be, picked up the boxes, and drove back to the studio, 90 minutes had gone by. And I was a simmering. My mantra, in these moments, is, "This is your job, and it's better than working for the man, trying to look busy while you think up clever facebook posts, being told when you can take your lunch break or your vacation, and dying for Fridays when you can go get wasted and forget what you do for a living." Too bad that mantra doesn't do shit for making me feel better, or productive.
With the distractions I cope with every day it's a wonder I have a business at all. What's the lesson here? I have no effin' idea. Actually, I do. It's all about choices. I chose to go pick up boxes instead of having them delivered because it saved me 90 bucks in freight charges. And I need that 90 bucks for my therapist who helps me deal with my resentments and anxiety around my business and artwork. See? It's all working together like a nice, tightly interlocked puzzle. Now, where's that damn corner piece?
