How in the Sam Hill do people do all this shit? Oh, you know--squeeze in 40 hours of work, write, read/participate in poetry events, conduct job search, enthusiastically engage in family activities and obligations, nurture friendships and other relationships, socialize mindlessly, go to punk rock concerts, have a semblance of a love life, remember to pick up your CSA box every Thursday, and register disgust over Republicans, all in the space of 15 waking hours per day? It cannot be done. OR CAN IT.
I think the solution is doing everything sort of half-assedly.
Above: please enjoy a detail from this cover-in-progress which I'm designing for the Northern California Women's Music Festival poetry anthology, a thing I'm doing while simultaneously learning how to use Illustrator. Halp.