Dishes invading every corner

I sometimes make it sound like I'm being much more productive than I really am.  Lately, I've been sort of stuck.  I keep starting new paintings and being unable to finish them.  I paint fairly often (although not every night, like I often suggest), but lately nothing's getting actually DONE.

I've been thinking about the reasons for this.

First, I blame the dishes.  It's a weird phenomenon, I suppose, and possibly slightly neurotic (or whatever the proper diagnostic term is- I'm no psych expert), but getting the dishes washed seems to dominate nearly every aspect of my life.

Here's how it goes: 

We start with a clean, shiny sink clear of dishes of any kind, and shelves of neatly stacked plates, bowls and glasses filling the cabinets. 

Then, I cook something.  Nothing too elaborate, because I try not to generate too many dishes, but something simple, like boiling up some quinoa or pasta and maybe roasting some veggies to go with it.  Maybe steak and mashed potatoes with broccoli. Maybe just a sandwich.

By the time I'm done cooking, the sink is maybe a third of the way full.  Then I eat.  After adding THOSE dishes to the mix, the sink's about half full.

A few hours go by and then I get hungry again.  I cook and eat again and now the sink's full. It's at exactly this point I should really wash the dishes.

What actually happens is this:

I fret over it.  I avoid it.  I find other things to do instead, like watch TV, compulsively alternate checking Facebook, my email, and the stats for this blog, play Mario Kart or go visit a friend.  Later that night, it's time for bed, so I happily put it off until the morning, having successfully procrastinated.

In the morning, it's time for breakfast, but I skip it because all my dishes are in the sink and heat up some coffee instead.  For the same reason, I then subsist on cigarettes, coffee, and the occasional slice of cheese for sometimes a day or two.

During this entire time, I can't seem to do anything.  First of all, I'm starving.  Secondly, I spend so much time worrying about the dishes that I can't concentrate on getting anything else done. 

At some point, the guilt and the smell are too much for me so I tackle the dreaded dishes.

It takes me all of perhaps 20 minutes.  Maybe less.  And I enjoy doing it as soon as the sponge is in my hand.  I actually LIKE doing the dishes.  And the sense of accomplishment when I'm done is significant.

By now, I'm really starving.  In a bad way.  So I cook something.  And now I'm right back to square one, avoiding washing dishes like the plague.

I'll be entirely honest here.  This is one thing about myself, like many others, that I really don't understand at all.

It's sort of like when I was really little, I remember resisting bath time like my life absolutely depended on it.  Later, I'd have to be dragged out of the tub because I was having such a grand old fun time.

Every night.

Yeah... I don't make any sense to me either.

Other than the dishes, there seems to be another issue affecting my ability to paint.  Namely: people.

I like to think of myself as a recluse.  My whole life has been spent trying to get away from people and get some privacy. 

And apparently, I finally won.

Now I live alone in a single room, work from home at a job that requires I be there 7 days a week, do my artwork at home, and basically only see people during daylight hours if I step out for cigarettes or groceries, or when I hang out with my son on weekends.

So I find myself craving human contact.  I don't socialize with any one person every day except when I buy my smokes from Tommy, the Chinese guy who owns the convenience store across the street, whose terrible English is possibly overshadowed only by his unabashed racism. 

Luckily, he doesn't seem to hate white people and he seems to like me, so it's slightly less awkward than I suppose it could be.

I don't plan a lot of social engagements ahead of time, because I try to keep my evenings open if the mood to paint strikes, but then I often end up sitting around messing with the internet instead of painting, wishing I was out doing something with a real live person instead.

So I've been trying to be more social.  I played an epic game of Settlers of Catan the other night with a buddy who also had the Seafarer's expansion and that was awesome.  And I went to a party last week I heard about on Craigslist of all places and where I knew absolutely no one except the friend I brought as murder insurance.  And that was really fun too. 

Good people. No murder.  Lots of art and fantastic food.

But at this point, I wonder if even were I out every night would I feel fully socialized? 
I'm not sure.  Maybe I just need to meet the right woman.

At any rate, I'm fairly happy overall with my life right now.  What painting IS getting done is mostly good.  My job gives me equal amounts of time to myself and things to complain about, both of which are important to me.  I live someplace I love, have great friends and a son I love more than I'd ever have thought possible.

Now I just need to figure out the whole painting thing again. Maybe I should just move someplace with a dishwasher.

Speaking of which, I've got a sink full of dishes right now, so I'd better go find something else to do instead as quickly as possible.

While I'm doing that, you should check out my FineArtAmerica page, where you can purchase the newly-available prints of "Small is Home, and Far Away" at 16x the painting's original size, starting at only $22!