I get paid to put away frozen food for the largest retail chain in the world. I don't like it, but I do it because the money's O.K. It makes me mad, it makes me tired, but it makes me money. I have aspirations of authorship, yet I can't write for working and/or sleeping, dependent on the time of day. I would like to put in my bid for membership in the group of writers who don't write, even though I have never been, nor will I likely be, a librarian. I would also like to broaden the parameters to include support for artists who no longer draw and musicians who can't seem to find their songs anymore, as I am both of these, also.
My job ate my life, except for one small, yet majorly-important part; I am a Husband and Father, and no amount of other kinds of success could begin to hold a candle to that.