What it means to be an artist

Today I helped change the pump on my sister/brother-in-law's aerobic septic tank. (The sister-in-law was calling it Pump Day instead of Hump Day. Get it? LOL Don't boo me!) I volunteered to do this so I'd know how it's done. Why? Because when you're an artist, you don't make a lot of money, and add to that our debt from school, and you have a recipe for really not having any money. Sure, we're paying our debt off as fast as we can, but we might need to know how to do something like change a pump on an aerobic septic system one day. It wasn't too hard, just a little dirty and there was a slight learning curve and it was hot as blazes. If we do it again, I'm sure it would go faster. Before doing it, I was joking about starting a business changing pumps, after, I wished I had gone to school to be an oil and gas engineer, so I'd just have to fork over the money for someone else to do it.

My husband and I are also painting our neighbors house. I think I mentioned that before. It's taking way long than we imagined, but we'd never painted a house before. I think we should have it done in a few weeks. We need the money, and basically, freelance is just that. Unpredictable and unreliable. And lately I've had a good bit, but that could change at any moment. Which is why if you want to be an artist, you should NEVER go into debt to do it. Not for any reason, no matter what anyone tells you to the contrary. No. Matter. What.

In our over-sensitive whiny PC world, stereotypes are usually unacceptable, but whether you like it or not, stereotypes are often stereotypes for a reason. And in this case, there's a reason why starving artist is one of them.You want to be an artist? Plan on waiting tables, changing aerobic septic pumps and painting houses while you're at it. I've actually never waited tables. I'm too much of a klutz, I'm sure I'd spill stuff all over the diners.

Anyway, I haven't written in a while because finals were pretty busy, I went to visit family in North Carolina on May 20th and the Friday before that fell and hurt myself pretty badly. I had the worst bruise I'd ever seen on my lower stomach. I was grateful though that I didn't break anything or hit my head or knock my teeth out. The plane ride was amazingly horrible on the way, but the TSA was very nice. Maybe I'll try to write a little more often now that I'm feeling better. I hurt like hell for over a week. Did you know that you can dent dog food cans with your chest and not break a rib? LOL