It’s 8:32 in the morning.
I’m sitting in front of my laptop. My cat’s in the window. Sunlight coming in.
The coffee grinder going in the background. A little bit of air slipping in from outside.
I’m trying to write this fast.
Because I already have to go.
The van needs a brake check. Maybe a tune-up.
There’s money to make. Deliveries to do. Calls that are going to come in whether I like it or not.
Last night I ran from 9 a.m. to almost 8 p.m.
All over L.A.
Deliveries. Collections. Back and forth.
Last night I felt trapped.
Today I just feel tired.
Not resentful.
Because there’s something humbling about someone being willing to pay you for something you bring them.
Still…
If I could choose this exact moment again—
I wouldn’t be rushing.
I’d be in my studio.
Cleaning it up slowly.
Sitting down. Writing.
Looking at my work.
Sketching.
Building something from nothing.
Letting the day stretch instead of compress.
But that’s not how my life is right now.
Right now it’s:
Run to work.
Run to the gym.
Run to draw.
Run to think.
Everything has to fit around work.
Not balance with it.
So I’ve been thinking…
Maybe I am running physically.
But mentally?
I don’t have to.
I can slow that part down.
For a long time, it felt like I was stuck.
Now it feels different.
I’m working through something.
Working toward becoming an artist.
And maybe that’s what this phase is:
Not doing what you love all day…
but finding small pockets where you can still build it.
Because life isn’t clean.
It’s messy.
And if you stay consistent long enough…
those small pockets start to grow.
Until one day—
they become your life.
If I could choose, I’d spend my days drawing, writing, and building something that feels like me.
But for now…
I build it in pieces.
Reader question
What would you do, even if nobody paid you?
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If this hit you… you can stay. I’m building this little by little.
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