Tuesday, Alone, Again

Coffee in the Montreal skyline mug, "Let the Music Get Down In Your Soul", by Marc Broussard on iTunes. As soon as I posted yesterday I got an instant message from my spouse querying the city of my coffee mug in the post. Turns out I was drinking from the Atlanta mug--chosen by the spouse, probably in honor of our homecoming, and brought to me in bed--not Denver. When I posted I just glanced at the mug, saw the "N" and a 60's style skyscraper and thought, "Denver". Really.

Good thing I got a lot of sleep on the vacation and charged my batteries to the full line as I am burning through charge rapidly this week. It has become clear to me how much I rely on my assistant as she was unable to work in the studio yesterday due to her real profession. I unloaded kilns and cleaned the pieces in them, shipped four orders and a book, fired three kiln loads, got out a press release, filled frit jars and fielded innumerable first-day-back phone calls and instant messages all by myself. Sniff. And today I am going to run out of morceaux so I will have to make morceaux, unload three kilns and clean the pieces in them, ship four large orders, fire three more kiln loads, fill frit jars AND get a mammogram! Sniff, sniff.

I could really use help halftime, the question is who and how to pay for it. An apprentice would be a fine thing--in the true, old-fashioned sense of the word 'apprentice'. (S)he would sweep the floors every morning, make morceaux, fill frit, unload kilns and wash pieces, and ship orders. Stacy does as much of that as she has time for, but as I mentioned, she has a full-time real-world profession and is just helping me out a few hours a week. I need a serf. Or a smurf--they're hardworking and always cheerful, and blue!... and I am light-headed from lack of sleep.

J woke again at 5:30 and came in with us. She had to wake me from a dead sleep to get me to move over and make room for her, and then I spent the next two hours dodging flailing elbows and feet. Did I mention that my batteries are re-charged? Nothing can drain batteries like a restless child in your bed. Off to get the mammies grammed and then work till I drop.