it is becoming more and more apparent to me that i am not cut out for a 9-5 (or 8-5 in this case) job that requires me to get up at 5am and not return home - exhausted - until 6pm. i'm past the whole "full time artist" thing, which would take buckets more energy than i have at this point in my FMCFS life. it is the every-day-is-the-same, churning out paper, no mind-challenge, working to profit someone else-ness of it all. i am tired. my body hurts in ways i never thought possible. i have hours throughout the day where i have great spurts of energy and hope and grace and All Good Things. and in those moments, it makes me sad to think that i am spending that sparkle to advance someone else's dream / goal / profit. i need art, not just to use an an excuse to stay home...but as a meditative, body-calming, mind renewing fountain. i made a proposal to my boss about a work-from-home position, but since it has Never Been Done, and there are a thousand people standing in line, willing to work traditionally, it wasn't an option. yes, they value me. my experience with the company have great value to them. i am known all the way up the food chain to the CEO. however. i was put with my team to be a motivator, and i'm afraid that my dark moments have motivated them in that direction from time to time. there are daily, monthly, even hourly goals and deadlines to achieve, which normally gets me excited. but there is no mental challenge. and the payoff isn't worth the time invested from my body and my soul, to get all dramatic. when i'm at work, i long to be at my studio table. if i take a mental health day, i worry that i'll get fired. and money equals choice, or at least the ability to make choices. or at least a certain number of choices. and around the hamster wheel we go. today, i am not able to face the desk. having been so exhausted the past few days that i have fallen asleep in my chair throughout the day, today will be a day to catch up. and unless they install a seatbelt on my desk chair, i foresee an injury from falling! that's how asleep i'm talking about. a part of me is hurt that i haven't heard the words "i hate that you are suffering...stay home and take care of yourself...we'll manage." am i being unreasonable? i have nothing to compare it with. we are each disappointed in the other, so i guess as i have withdrawn, so has he. it is just the sameness of every day. the exact sameness. like the Bill Murray movie, Groundhog Day. and i feel there is so much within me that needs to find life on a canvas, or through rusty bits and parts...and pushing paper from one side of my desk to the other grinds on me...but no pearl has become evident. there's no answer this morning, and there are a zillion other things to work themselves out...all connected, all layered together. today, i rest.