In an effort to not have surgery for a teeny tiny thing like a finger, this is what we are doing. I have to wear this for another week and HOPE the bones start to grow back together. Seems I broke my finger pretty bad and there is a chance the bones won’t heal with out pins and surgery and of course lots of money. Now my ver nice orthopedist takes payments (THANK YOU very nice doctor man!) and he might even do trade out for either design work or some art (NEVER underestimate the barter system! I always offer trades and people take me up on it more often than not! I once did a website for a car!) Anyhoo if in ten days it has started to heal, I wear this thing for three more weeks. Then off it comes for physical therepy. Geez, who woulda thunk it??? But honestly i feel so LUCKY that this is all that happened. If you had felt what i felt the moment before this happened and how very SURE I was that I was about to fall down a huge flight of cement and iron stairs, you would understand why i feel so lucky and blessed. Also cause hosptals take payments as do woderful bone specialist. (If you ned a guy that can set a gnarled finger like no other, gimme a call!)
Anyhoo, I am learning how to design with one hand and a thumb and paint with one hand. Sofar cooking has been the hardest. I can’t hold much with a finger and a thumb. And I hate asking for help. But when people see my hook, they tend to offer, which is nice. And yes, you KNOW I am going to paint dogs all over this thing! Always an opportunity when you look with a positive attitude. So in the meantime, excuse the typos – one handed typing is no joy.
And I have a ton of new commissions to upload so check out my commissions page soon.
Well, hmmm… Where to start? Lately work has been slow. VERY slow. Pennies in the bank account slow. So i decided to try to pick up some new contract work with Aquent, a creative temp agency. I interviewed with a place Monday. I found out i got a two week gig starting Thursday – yesterday. I went in yesterday and the place was great. Really nice people, they do really great work. I was a bit bummed to not be in my studio, but a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do, right? So this morning i woke up in a great mood, and got dressed, packed a lunch and got my coffee. Then I went down the stairs. Well, then i started to go down the stairs. Except I tripped. And for a moment thought I was going down a full flight of cement stairs. Hard. But luckily my finger took one for the team. My poor ring finger dove out and valiantly grabbed a rung on the stairs. One little finger grabbed on for dear life, risking life and, well…finger. No thanks to middle, index and inky, i was able to regain just enough footing to catch myself. “Ow! I thought. That hurt like a b*tch!” Then I went to console my brave, courageous ring finger. And um. Well. It was not good. Poor ring-y was all askew. Crooked and sad. And within a few moments screaming in pain. Ring-y had gotten dislocated and was way out of wack. So i did what any person starting a brand new job and has no insurance did. I started cussing like a damned sailor! Then i called BEST BOYFRIEND EVER who had just left 5 minutes ago. I called 5 times before he picked up. He was it seems at the Quickie Mart getting a donut. He was on his way back. Then the pain strted. Oh the pain. And for a woman that thinks drugs that stop pain are a perfect reason to know there is a God and never felt one bit of labor for my daughter, well, I well, am a big ol’ baby.
And I don’t have insurance. So i thought it might be cheaper to go to a doc in the box instead of the hospital. But it was 8:30am and they didn’t open until 9am. So I sat outside and waited. And grimaced and laughed at my stupid luck. Actually feeling lucky that it was mt left hand. While i can’t play my beloved piano* for a good long while, I CAN mouse click and PAINT. So i am very luckily. (And on a side note, one handed typing sucks!) Anyhoo…Doogie Houser who was working at the Urgent Care took a horrified look at my twisted finger and sent me to an ER. Damn! I heard the cha ching of money…So at the ER they took an xray and after an hour the doctor came and said that it was not dislocated. To which I said, “Huh? But it’s all crooked-y!!” To which she said, “Yeah, that is what I thought too, but your knuckle is not what it making it crooked, the broken twisted bone is. So I have to set it.” To which I said, “Blink….blink….blink…:” Then I said, ” Yeah, since I am already paying a fortune, why don’t you inject some more of that there numbing stuff in, cause I don’t want to feel JACK up to my elbow!” And she did! Then she PULLED my poor finger, then TWISTED my poor finger, then PULLED again. I felt the bones pop back into place. ICK. And that my friends is how in just one day on the job you get your boss to email you files to work from home to have done on Moday. Pretty clever of me, huh?
* I don’t play the piano, never have and have sworn an oath to a college music professor to never pick up an instrument ever again so he would pass me with a C.**
**Yes, that is a true story.
And now because I knew what a great blog it would make…I had Best Boyfriend Ever take pics! Enjoy the pictoral illustration of how to work from home and get $2500 in debt in one easy morning!”
So you have a dream. You think about it all the time. You fantasize about painting on the deck of a beach house you rent out for the summers, submitting designs and paintings via the internet and FedEx. You work from your home and your home is the beach. You listen to the ocean and you feel alive, at peace, exactly where you were meant to be. Your job lets you travel, take vacations around the world. You go to Italy and study the art and eat your way throught the country. The world values your unique view of the world and give you a wonderful life in exchange for having the courage to show the world what you see.
It is not easy. And sure, this might not be YOUR dream. Perhaps your dream is to go back to school to be a teacher and have the same hours as your children. Or maybe it is to open a chocolate shop in a cute little house in a cute little town. Or maybe it is to open that catering business because secretly you know what everyone says about your cooking really is true and if you had it your way you would live your days in a kitchen. It begins with a dream. Daring to say out loud that you want more. We live in an amazing country where we are spoiled rotten. We can barely have any money, yet can walk into any corner grocery store and have hundreds of choices and have a great meal for dinner. We have every opportunity and yet we feel somehow wrong to want more. How can we possibly want more in a world of excess? Maybe it is because we do not even want the excess we are told is the “American Dream.” Ya know what? I don’t want to own a house. At least not now. And I sure as hell don’t want a car the size of a house that costs what I pay in rent. I love to rent. I love the freedom of knowing I can leave, that I am not tied down, that if the heater breaks it is not MY $3000 problem. Yes, I know, every month I am throwing money away, a house is an investment, a house is like money in the bank. That is what we are told. I don’t want credit cards. I ruined my credit 10 years ago on less than $4000 because this country allows college children with no jobs and no means of paying what they spend credit cards with credit limits that seem limitless whan you have just had half a keg of beer and pizza sounds really good to you and your ten dorm friends. This country sets us up to be tied down. Locked into some dream that means going back to school is impossible, staying home with your 3 year old is a luxury, having health insurance means working in corporate america to be able to afford it. Ok, some of you business types might love it, and that is ok, if it truly is your dream. And I know, America as we know it would not exist if everyone just ran off and did what they wanted. But lets face it, not many of us are willing to buck the system and do what we want. Becuase you know what? It is HARD. And sometimes you don’t do well. And sometimes you have to shift your dream for a little while, or temporarily do something else because you really don’t make enough money to live, or you find out your dream does not work the way you want it to, or it is not what you really wanted after all. Because you don’t even know until you try. But you still can’t give up. You CAN’T. Because this IS America. And damn it, you are allowed to want more. Be more fulfilled. Want what YOU want. Whatever it is. And it might take a long time to get there. It might seem an eternity before you can finally go back to school, find the job you really want, stay at home with your baby, or find a band to start playing with on weekends because music is the only thing that really makes you fell like you. But it is never going to happen if you don’t at least find the courage to say out loud what it is you REALLY want. And it is ok if it is not to own a big house, with a giant car and commute 2 hours every day. And it is ok if that is EXACTLY what you want. But whatever it is START DREAMING. Becasue you are allowed to. Because this world needs the dreamers and the risk takers. And when you fall down and it gets hard, the people that love you are there for you to help you get back up and tell you to keep going. Because there is nothing we like more than seeing someone go after their dream and getting it. Cause it gives us all hope. And hope is perhaps the most important emotion of all.