Tiger Stealing

Sorry to fall off the face of the world, folks-- I work at a college testing center, and the last two weeks of the semester meant finals, which means no energy for Carapace outside of work. But I survived! And now I'm free! So expect sketchery to return for the rest of the month. Like so!



This tiger is blatantly taken from a photo in National Geographic. This sort of photo inspiration always makes me uneasy, because I don't want to be accused of image theft. On the the other hand, the photo-tiger was rather less....swirly. So I don't know, maybe I've changed it enough?

Another thing about this tiger, and the issue with a lot of my pictures, is that it is not anywhere near as cool as it could be. If I really had any artistic talent, I'd make it out of cut paper. Wouldn't it look awesome in purple and orange paper? Or cast iron, or anything with a bit of dimension? Yes it would. Heck, even a good textured acrylic painting would be better than this. At least that last one might be in my capacity. I don't know when it'll get done, because paintings take a looooong time. But sad experience has taught me it's better to get the idea down and save it for later than wait until I can do things right and lose the whole concept. So, tiger!

I have gallons of sketches- and chattery -- saved up from the last couple of weeks, too, so start coming back now, y'hear? Hope everyone else is having a great month!

Day Jobs, the Having Of

It feels...weird to be posting without a sketch. How will I function without artsy goodness to hide behind? Oh, wait, I have a meme. Day saved. Thanks, Etsy Bloggers!

Regular readers of this blog (all four of you) may have noticed a seeming discrepancy in my daily narrative. How can I be seriously disabled and still talk about my day job? That, I can answer in one word:

Nepotism!

Ok, it's not exactly nepotism; I got my job on the strength of my training, on my qualifications, on the basis of total inability to work more than 10 hours a week outside the home!

I did find out about it from my mom, though.

And she has since been promoted to be my direct supervisor.

Ahem.

My actual supposed job is testing center assistant. Basically, I proctor at the local community college. When I found out about the job, the office was *almost* fully staffed. They needed another person oh, about 10 hours a week. Weird hours, but not impossible ones.

Turns out it is near impossible to find a person with at least an associates' degree, willing to work 10 hours a week with no real hope of more, with no conflicting schedule requirements, who isn't a student.

Unless you're willing to work blue.

Blue badge, I mean- the color of "handicap" in the US. You'll see it at all the parking spaces up near the front, where, believe me, you want us spazzy crippled types to go.

Employers, even of hourlies, often don't consider people with noticeable disabilities. Let me tell you, employers, especially of hourlies, you are missing a gold mine. We're desperate like few legal citizens are: desperate to prove what we can do, desperate to have even a little income, desperate to feel part of the community, desperate to GET OUT OF THE HOUSE BEFORE I SNAP AND PAINT THE WALLS WITH MUSTARD.

Seriously, it had been two years. I was going all Charlotte Perkins Gilmore. I needed that job. Not the money, though I won't lie, the money is nice to have-- I needed a JOB. And my boss needed someone to work 10 hours a week without being bitter.

Bitter? The job is pretty much Stuff I Love. I have a high-speed internet connected computer, get to see a few dozen people in the day,most of whom I chat with, and spend the rest of the time yakking with my mother or my coworkers. It's pretty darn awesome.

Of course there are some rough times, especially at the end of the semester. We get very busy then, and being very busy is hard on my fizzing brain. And easy job or no, my brain is a pile of electrified pudding, and holding it together enough to be in public wears me out. I miss work sometimes, and I miss work sincerely when that happens. No one could be happier to have a clerical job.

I'm the sort of artist who needs a day job; the forced artistic down time and change of scenery makes creating easier later, and encourages me to structure my time. And I'm the sort of worker who needs a lot of time at home, lest I be taken to the ER. So here's to making a living, and the things we need to live; may they overlap as often as possible!