if you remember, PHASE I and II went as they normally do-- and i was making the paycheck of a high-class prostitute without any of the demeaning qualities. though i did apply to pop balloons with my butt on film at one point. then, PHASE III sort of turned things upside down. i had fun, but i started losing money with no clear sight of how things might change in time for february.
i had little time to do much beyond bitch at my illustration boss for exploiting my suffering days and paying me in pee-droplets. and, courtesy of all the support and votes i received for my [losing] t-shirt design, i think i drew more food than i ate. so hopefully you all enjoyed your "thank you" bagels.
karisma wrote to me that she'd realized my financial schemes did not include drug-dealing, or anything amazing, rather a very high tolerance for dealing with shit. that is both true and untrue. in a normal situation-- in every previous situation-- i would've made all my money back and more. the problem in this case was that i wasn't prepared like usual. generally, i'm expecting to be broke-- but the last two years of my life have been spent richly and without thought of ever being poor again. i sort of walked into that one.
but i will say this: you want to be stranded on an island with me. i'll complain way less than you. and i watched a shitload of the voyage of the mimi when i was young.
anyway, i started february with something under $2, no job, and especially messy hair. i remember even having to tighten my belt a notch-- and that's a horrible sign for a man with a 28" waist.
but, somewhere amongst failed interviews, i landed my second highest paying job. and that was against more odds than i have ever knowingly been against. my tuxedoed adventures at the concierge offices not only didn't ruin my shot at the position, but bettered them.
i'm actually still amazed by that.
also, despite what everyone was eager to promise, i have not lost my personal life or artistic me-time. i may be new to the job, and there may be plenty of time left for me to decide i hate what i do and it's destroyed my creative side once again. but, as of now, i spend about 19 hours a day being productive-- and didn't even missed a single blog post in february (assuming you count This is About Philosophy as a post.)
and for the first time ever, you all kept reading. and i want to thank you. the highest number of steady visitors i ever got was when i was fired from the concierge gig. the second highest is when i quit city sightseeing. and the third highest is when i wrote a letter to starbucks asking that they reconsider the mirror that forces you to watch yourself poop in their bathroom. never have my hits stayed so steadily high while i've been happy and employed. i even made $20 in ad clicks this month. so thank you for sticking around-- it certainly raises my faith a slice or two.
and, just before the end of the month, i landed a new [long-term/paid] illustration job. sure, it's another dating/love/romantic-stuff-i-do-not-understand sort of concept, but maybe my bitterified lonely self is exactly what makes drawing Love so much more intriguing. you know, like steven hawkings talking about the laws of physics while sitting in a wheel chair.
and i'm not going to argue with any of it if it's portfolio material and bank-worthy.
i have to say, whenever i get stuck on a particularly unanswerable interview question, i tend to find myself saying, "it's nothing coffee can't solve." and that sentence has never been more true.
at this time, you are welcome to place bets on how long i'll be able to work 10-hour days, write two posts a day, still get artwork done for myself and for two illustration jobs, while going out on weekends and adventuring before i completely collapse in a pool of blood, vomit, and-- naturally-- some poop.
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