There are days when the tiredness hits you.
Today is a day of lethargy.
I am drawing, but there is no love for what I draw.
I am indifferent.
These are the days you want to sell everything and move to Scotland and start a bookstore and never go back home.
At least not for years and years.
Then you stop yourself and say "No. Not today. Maybe tomorrow. I'm too tired."
But, then, when you wake up tomorrow you feel really good and a friend calls you up and wants to hang out and the cat sleeps on your stomach and the air smells like jasmine and you love what you draw and you can't get a song out of your head. And you can't imagine ever leaving or changing anything, so you stop thinking about it and go to work for awhile until it hits you again.
Eventually.
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