This past Christmas I was poor. Really, really poor. Poorer than I've ever been since graduating college and working at my big girl job. There was one reason for this poordom: I had just moved out.
While it was the best decision of the year, it made the prospect of Christmas presents a bit scary. Especially that now at work I was working closely with my Underwriters and knew I would be getting many bottles of wine. I wanted to give something to them as well, but where there was 1 of me, there were 8 of them. Even baking wise, that was going to get expensive. I decided to exploit myself being an artist. On one hand I could get them all relatively cheap gifts (not accounting for time put in), and perhaps I could get another paid art job from this.
At this point, I was also about to get my back surgery again. Bye, bye nerves! Burn those suckers out. This meant I conveniently had 2 days off work to just sit around, watch TV and paint. Not only did I enjoy it, but everyone loved the gifts. One of my younger female Underwriters ran over to my desk and hugged me. It's nice to see that each of my paintings are lovingly displayed in everyone's cubes.
Also, I ended up with another painting job from one of my favorite Underwriters. Said favorite Underwriter commissioned a painting of his family's beach house as a present to his father. It is a challenge, but one I am enjoying and rising to.