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So, up until the end of June Sunday mornings used to be my time!  Specifically, my blogging time… my writing time.  MY time to do all things wonderful as related to writing.

I crossed over into July and I was at the trailer, at the zoo and today, just ended up looking after other things for my daughter.

Sure, that’s how life goes… no, I’m too old to buy into that!  I’m set in my ways, especially when I’m only guaranteed one lousy morning a week to dedicate to writing.

This week took an interesting emotional turn.  I went back to work after ten days off.  Hadn’t been in since June 30th.  By Thursday I was an absolute wreck.  I found it to be the hardest going back ever.  My week off was wonderful, as I have stated in previous posts.  And I had two calls, first thing, back-to-back, from patients who just needed to have someone to whine at.  That, combined with the BS of a Region I live in, was the last straw.

Yet I don’t know what to do.  I don’t know how to move forward.  My writing career (if I can come even close to using that word) is semi-existent to the point where I can’t move into that to make a living.  Even if I did, would I be happy?  Would I be happy spending 30, 35 or  40 hours a week writing for someone else?  For a while I’m sure.  But I can’t imagine it would last that long because eventually it too would get to the point I’m at now.

But I don’t know how long I’m going to be able to hang in at the office taking all those calls.  And they don’t call and ask for me because they need me for something, they call and ask for me because the new receptionist is not the old receptionist and feel she can’t book them an appointment because she doesn’t know them!  What kind of backwards thinking is that?  If nothing else, I need the job because I need the steady pay.  I need to pay the rent and put food on the table.

So how do I find a happy medium when I live in a region where there is little support for artists?  Is there any region that supports the arts?  And I mean really supports them–like free advertising so that people in the area know you exist!  Paying for you to have a table at events in order to promote and sell your work.  Art is supposed to make a community, well, not this community!  This region is too busy building an electric street car system that is going to leave taxpayers paying for it for the next seven generations!

Despite managing, somehow, to get into editing Confessions in the Mural further, I have found myself extremely unhappy and probably bordering on depression.  My back has been more painful and the time seems to wisp away into nothing as soon as I settle to do anything.

No wonder I can’t accomplish anything!