an open letter to my job

i got an email from Brian Andreas' StoryPeople today, and it. just. was. spot. on. I am grateful for the income my job provides, especially after looking at The Perfect Studio space today. Perfect in every way. Perfect. and only $391 per month seperates me from this beautifully perfect space across the hall from a new friend who's work i've admired for so so long. perfect. and diva could come there with me. perfect. and i could hum and saw and grind and paint and splash at any time of day or night. perfect. except...in order to pay for it, i have to work. if i work, i wouldn't see much of it. so i came home with that particular chinese handcuff wrapped around my heart, wondering how other people do it? how? do they have other people supporting them? some, yes. others no. then how? how do you ask someone, "so how do you afford to not work and own a car and an apartment/house and travel and live like i do except i spend 2/3 of my life making someone else's dream come true?" and not to sound snarky. because i meant what i said about being grateful for employment and i don't begrudge anyone anything. i truly want to know the nuts and bolts and dollars and cents of it all. and in this swirling vortex of thoughts, i opened my email to this: I don't know how long I can do this, he said. I think the universe has different plans for me & we sat there in silence & I thought to myself that this is the thing we all come to & this is the thing we all fight & if we are lucky enough to lose, our lives become beautiful with mystery again & I sat there silent because that is not something that can be said.