disillusionment/hey, my job sucks, does yours?

I gotta get out of the place... if it's the last thing I ever do.

The thought of going back to work, or even accomplishing the work I took home for the weekend sends me into death yawn spiral. I even watched insipid television today to further my procrastination. What is my malfunction here... other people do worse things, work with worse people and in horrid conditions.

**Here we watch the sloth formally known as purplefinch fall off the couch and crawl to the computer, stopping only briefly for carrots and the stereo play button**

There's more to life than this. There must be. A zillion more things to create and

What happens when your art becomes nausiating? Do you persue it? Do you what it drift back into the sky and pick up the next thing that grabs you in life? And what if nothing ever does again the way it once did?

What if I have completely lost the niavette that brought me to the arts? What if all my ideas buried between the lines in countless notebooks rot there between the pages?

One of my good friends was fired by the same theatre I work for. It is just one more thing to cause disillusionment.

There's more to life than this. and I'm going to find it someday.