Work is for Jerks

Here I am, already 10 minutes late to a job I don't care about, haven't even left the house, and already discouraged because its 9am and I work til 10pm with one half hour break. This is how hard I work these days, to pay the rent, bills, gas, cell phone, car insurance, blah blah blah. At 10pm I drive to San Jose to produce music in the stu stu studio. By then all my energy is spent dealing with one micromanaging boss at the first job and what seems like a million coffee consumers at the second, all while working alone and trying to close and clean the place entirely by myself. Cinderelli cinderelli night and day its cinderelli... By the time I get to the studio my entire body aches and my brain no longer functions and I'm looking at the computer like huh??? How is this the proper way to do what I love? I swore to myself that these are the last two jobs I'm ever going to work for somebody else. We'll see how well I live up to that self pact. My goal is to make a living off being creative, for myself. I'd love to make a living through my music, and also through Smasheltooth's Shatterbox, a mobile vintage store full of hyphy art from my amazing puff paint graffitti crew, combined with odds n ends I've collected myself, in a gutted airstream with big wind up teeth and shattered glass decorating the outside. I'd much rather cruise around in that all day than deal with senility and dirty floors, even though I respect and even love the woman with the aging brain and the customers with the crumbs.