Day 8

Day four through day seven have been all but a complete wash. While I did get the luxury of blowing a load of money at Dick Blick on some high end watercolours (I am still short a couple for Millard's full palette in Joy), I basically have not had the free time allotted to effectively continue to pursue this project.

Apparently, what is a priority to me, is only optional to everyone else. All I am really asking for is two hours a day. If more occurs, fabulous, but no less. But it just isn't happening, no matter how I explain, discuss it. And I am weary of being frustrated and angry over the inevitable conflict of time. I am weary of my day job stealing away precious hours beyond the call of duty. And I have gotten so weary of not getting enough sleep. Going full tilt on four hours or less just isn't as easy anymore.

I don't know what the rest of today will hold. Besides a nap, and some serious pain meds to stem this incessant pounding in my skull, and ease the intense pressure over my eyes, I have no plans once this day is over. If I feel more myself by the end of the day, I do have my field easel and supplies in the trunk of my car, a plein air oil is not necessarily out of the question. But I would need to feel a helluva lot better than I do right now.