Nothing Says"Instant Blog Entry" Like a Big List of Complaints

Well, it's Monday morning and let's just say I am already losing my metaphorical shit. Oh, do I wish I was a beacon of hope and beautiful inspiration today, but I am SO FAR AWAY from anything resembling "hopeful" and "beautiful." I am just one big COMPLAINER. I know, I know--nothing says "read on" like COMPLAINING.

One big thorn in my side this a.m. is that my studio looks like a bomb went off in it and I can't even use it. What will now be called as the "Shelving Incident" happened yesterday, when I got all excited and decided to get some new shelves for a certain disastrous corner that needed some organizing. I got those baking rack shelves thinking they would be big enough for both storage and organizing. Well, it turn out they are TOO BIG to be any help. If I had nothing but giant boxes to store and not things like jars and boxes of painting supplies and other DAINTY art supplies they would be perfect. But alas, it just turned into a humongous bulky shelf space that only created MORE clutter. So, I had to disband and put it in the bedroom, where it is now a closet of sorts. But that leaves me with a non usable studio.

Also, it's been HOT. I mean, sticky, oozing, relentless hot for days now. "They" said the heat would let up by Saturday, and then it was Sunday, and I haven't even turned on the radio today because it's too dang HOT to move--and it's only 8:30 in the morning. I feel like the reclusive artist Henry Darger, who made it a point to listen to the weather man every day and MOCK him in his journals saying, WHAT DO YOU KNOW?

Then there's just the fact that I've got a bad case of Everybody-Has-IT-Except-Me disease. It might as well be called Temporary Insanity, because that's all it is, temporary and INSANE. Still, it SUCKS while you have it.

Also, I slept badly.

Also, I need a haircut.

Also, a book deal.

And while you're at it, a lobotomy.

Maybe I'll just go back to bed. At least there's an air conditioner in there. And my new shelves. Maybe then I'll get over my bad self and get some new shelves and carry on making sense of the chaos in my studio--which is just a room that acts as a vessel for the things in my mind.