Shortage

There is a shortage of everything these days. Paint, lumber, car microchips, pharmaceuticals, ranch dressing.

I jumped shipped from painting houses and slinging paint at Lowe’s for a better opportunity at Sherwin-Williams and we have no paint to sell. I have grown men in my face, “what am I supposed to do?! This is my livelihood!" they say. This is also my livelihood, my guy. I don't know. Tell your customers the truth, climate change is affecting the economy.

I have also been feeling really short on my own emotional capacity lately. I've also felt really short on creativity. I have an overabundance of love for someone who doesn't love me.

This year isn't any better than last year. In fact, it might be worse. This time around, there is no unemployment bonus, the ocean is on fire, there is haze everywhere, and now we are being told to put our masks back on, which I don't want to do. My jaw hurts so much, my dentist tells me I have no cavities and everything is fine. I grind my teeth smooth and flat in my sleep. My birth control implant makes me bleed every single day, and I have been bleeding pretty consistently since last August.

The shining beam in my life doesn't care for me, it doesn't seem like. "Sorry bella," he tells me, as he walks away from me. I can't do this emotional roller coaster, I want off. I want to throw all of my paintings in those fires and throw myself in it.