It's a Living

I'm not a morning person in the least bit. I just don't get it. Why would anyone not want to prolong that warm softness of bed? But duty calls and for this particular assignment, I've been scheduled for a 7 to 4 shift and, well, it's killing me.

I could be romantic and say that it's all for the love of art. That I have some great impending opus that will catapult me into personal fulfillment followed by financial stability. But I'm no diamond in the rough. This is it. This is all there is. It's not so bad, if I do say so myself, but I'm saying that I can acknowledge there are no sudden revelations of genius in my future, and so, the reality is that I'll always have to revert to some practical form of employment, be it in varying degrees of enjoyment.

Still, just in case I do have that next great American novel in me, I can't help but feel warm and fuzzy that I'd be in good company. So many others have had to live in the real world like I do. So many others managed to work around their gray world. I really can appreciate their plight.