hyenahell

well. thanks to my good friend andrew i've mustered up some work for tonight. gonna be training at the bar- well, basically bartending, but since i don't have a liscence it's "training"... not that they care. which is good, because this means i might eventually get a regular slot. but if this happens, and i stress the big *if* factor, it won't be until the end of july. but it's a start. and i could use the extra change.

i haven't been working on my art. at all. this really, really bothers me. in fact i've begun to question my chosen line of "work"... maybe i'm not an artist-type. i've always identified myself by my artwork, ever since i can remember. ever since i was four. and not doing it was never an option. it was like breathing. but now, for the first time in my life, i just ... can't work. can't even doodle. it's frightening. frightening in the sense that my entire identity is nullified by this recent progression in idleness. frightening in the sense that, if i'm not making art, i'm not myself. i'm nothing.

my mom will be here soon. to help me furnish the apartment. money's tight, though, so i don't know how much furnishing will be done. at least i'll get to eat. and hang out with my mom, who is cool as fuck.

stress levels steadily increasing in the relationship. i am thinking about throwing in the towel. i can't do it anymore. i can't stand feeling like the worthless, inept freeloader that i've felt like the past ... year? who knows. i can't remember the last time a relationship took away this much from me... this much of myself. i've never felt so hopeless. i've never felt so little like myself than now. it needs to stop.

that's it. move along, folks, nothing to see here...