Lessons from Indonesia, pt. 1 - Cut out the Distractions

Monkey here.

After returning from Indonesia, I didn't really expect to experience any culture shock returning to San Francisco. I don't really culturally fit into the rigors of Indonesian communal culture, and finding food that was vegetarian (let alone vegan) was pretty difficult at times, especially since I didn't have access to a kitchen where I could cook things myself. On the plane ride home, I missed my iphone (had it switched off the whole trip), my email, digitally painting or working on websites and the such (we left our laptop and tablets at home), and painting (we just brought our sketchbook and cameras and a hand full of color pencils and pastels).

However, after recovering from some jetlag, I realized how distracted I got as soon as I got back online and jacked in. Emails to read and respond to, facebook posts, uploading photos from our trip, signing up for new artist websites, digital painting, video games, television shows, youtube, ohmygoshtherearesoooomanydistractions now!

While one might argue that it just takes some getting used to again, I was freaking out earlier today as I wasn't used to having to actually do anything. As a guest of a family that provided food and transportation constantly (which can be more frustrating than one might guess), I realized that I just sort of went with the flow and with the notion of choice taken out of things, I just went with it. It was literally like a dream, where you don't get much input, you just sort of go along for the ride most of the time.

Our privileged American life (and seriously, just the fact we can drink our tap water is pretty privileged) is full of distractions designed to keep us bouncing around and not doing our true life's work. We're supposed to stay sedated on great television and celebrity gossip and playing video games that really don't do much for us in life besides take our time away from doing real, meaningful work. I realized that often times we get caught up in the distractions and get manipulated into doing other things than getting down to business.

My point (finally!) is that it is easy for us to let life sort of take us wherever it wants us to go. It's easy to let it steer us from gatekeeper to gatekeeper, and just ride the tide and abandon all hope of taking control of our lives. It's easy to join the mass, it's hard to be yourself.

So my plea is for you to go out and do something today that will wrest the reins back into your own hands. In support of the #OWS movement, you could close your bank account and open an account at a credit union. You could start writing a business plan for that business you've always wanted to start. You could paint or sculpt or create something for yourself. Rebuild your website! Write a manifesto! Do something, anything (it doesn't have to be massive) to help cut out the clutter and find something that YOU want to do and focus on it. Turn off the music and close the Facebook tab, close your email and do something amazing, even if it's a simple as choosing to take a five minute break from work and mediating or walking outside. It's your life, so don't let the distractions overwhelm you! Get to it!

Gratitude (repost)

This post is from April of last year. We'll see you next week when we're back from vacation! Woo!

-M+S

Monkey has been doing a lot of reading the past week, and constantly, he's stumbled across the notion of gratitude being one of the main forces that moves the universe. Being grateful is definitely difficult when you're facing tough situations, but really, if one can manage to do it, one will definitely enjoy life more.

Whether or not you believe in the power of positive thinking, or visualization, or the Law of Attraction, or any of the new-age, life coaching movement stuff, the sheer logic of being grateful for everything in your life will lead to much more happiness.

If anything, Monkey + Seal have found that when we stop and think about it, we have much more to be grateful for than to be angry or frustrated about. Yes, in the past week Monkey lost his wallet on the bus, and Monkey + Seal got news of not being juried into Spectrum and not getting into the SF Renegade Craft Fair. Also, some of our student loans' grace periods are ending, so we'll have large loan payments to start paying off.

However, Monkey had his wallet returned, there's always next year for Spectrum and Renegade, and Paper Hat Productions (which is basically Monkey + Seal) is working on their next art riot extravaganza. Additionally, Seal just finished some freelance work, we got to go to our good friends' wedding this weekend and take a small mini-vacation, and we somehow managed to run into a friend when we went shopping for Indonesian snacks! Additionally, we have jobs and a cozy apartment in one of the most awesome cities in the world, and we're pretty healthy, and get to follow our dream of becoming professional artists. We could go on and on, but we're sure you get the picture.

Anyway, it's a proven fact (although don't ask us for citations, sorry) that negative events affect us about 10 times as a positive event. No wonder its so easy to get bogged down in the negative. But we find the trick is thinking about all the other good things in your life (that we often take for granted) to say "hey, although xy and z sucks, we've still got a,b,c,d,e,f,g,etc. going for us."

So, to wrap things up, don't wait for Thanksgiving to be grateful for all the little things in your life. Make it a daily habit and your life will be way more fun and meaningful!

Releasing the Rhino (repost)

Hi all. Here's a post from October of last year(!). We hope you enjoy it and Happy November!

-M+S

Monkey here:

So I'll be honest. I just came up with that phrase "releasing the rhino" right now, but I think it's pretty apt metaphor at what I wanted to talk about today. Plus, as part of Monkey + Seal, we like metaphors that deal with animals.

Many times, we carry around a lot of baggage. Whether it's familial responsibilities, loans, or a looming urgency to save the world, I know I tend to carry around a lot of crap that affects my art in negative ways.

I know that while constantly thinking about art as a business has its advantages, sometimes I get wrapped up in the money and that gets me thinking about my huge college loans, and that gets me worried about whether or not I'm good enough of an illustrator to get jobs, and etc. etc. etc., the downward spiral continues and then I start painting desperately to try and make money, rather than painting because it's what I love.

Let's call this huge force of negativity "the rhino." It's a stubborn, powerful beast that basically pulls you where you it wants to go, which is generally down and out. Whether it's money, or what you think your parents think of you, or what your peers think, or whatever it is, it can be frustrating and tiresome to fight the rhino. I mean, seriously, it's a RHINO for crying out loud, they're huge!

So, we have to learn how to release the rhino. I know this is hard to do, but it's the key to getting stuff done and being successful. The rhino can take what you, the real you, love, and turn it into something painful. If it's about acceptance and self-esteem, the rhino turns painting into just another thing they won't love you for. If it's about money, the rhino turns dancing into necessary, painful work. Once your love is turned into something painful by the rhino, it's hard to love it and you won't find that you enjoy it. At that point, why bother?

Well, you should bother because you love it. The pain isn't coming from what you like to do, it's coming from that giant rhino that's pulling you down and the straps are cutting into your shoulders and you're tired and grumpy and life stinks...because of the rhino!

So, cut it free. Release the rhino. How to do that is going to be different for everyone. Sometimes it's about taking a nap. Others it's yoga or meditation, or writing in journals, or playing a quick video game. Do whatever you have to do to center yourself and realize that to succeed at doing what you love, you have to love it.

It's not time to face the rhino yet. The rhino is like the last boss in the video game of life. You have to level up and gather courage and wisdom and experience and new tools and techniques before you can take on the rhino and finish the game and win your success. Just keep doing what you love, just to do it, and you'll find it's a lot easier to face the rhino later on.

In my case, I have to keep painting and experimenting and drawing because that's what I love to do. After I finish the illustrations and paintings, I then have the option to go and examine any business prospects - making prints, selling them at craft fairs, putting them in my portfolio, but that has to come after the art is done.

Are you fighting a rhino? Be honest. If you are, see what you can do about letting that beast go and get on with your love. How do you release the rhino?

The White Door

To celebrate Halloween, since we'll be on a plane out of the country, here is a reposting of the story Monkey wrote last year. Also, here's a quick speed paint Monkey did of a zombie! We hope you enjoy it! Happy Halloween!

The White Door

On Sam's way home from work, he would generally keep to the same route, down Lincoln, right at the corner store, down two blocks on Woodsbury, and then left onto Ausiel, which took him past a few blocks of old Victorians til he got to his apartment. He deviated from this route rarely, only if he needed to pick something up from the dry cleaner's of perhaps some limes at the corner store.

One day, on a unremarkable day like any other, as he walked down Ausiel he looked up and noticed a door he had never seen before. Granted, he didn't look up focusing on noticing strange doors on a daily basis, but he noticed that at the peak of a house, presumably where the attic might be, lay a strange, whitish door that was left ajar.

At first, Sam though he had seen a dim light in the room casting strange shadows about. Although the door had no strange markings besides a round-ish crystalline knob and a shiny white finish, Sam couldn't get it out of his head when he went to sleep that night.

The door didn't quite make sense. It seemed to jut out into open space - why would you make a door leading to a four-story fall? If it was just for decoration, then why was it a full door and not a window?

That night, as Sam slept, he saw the door, closer this time, as if he was flying. This time, a strange greenish light seeped out and as he approached the door a black cat suddenly jumped out and hissed at him, waking him just as his alarm clock was about to go off.

As the days turned into weeks into months, Sam would occasionally glance up towards the door, and it seemed to always be open, almost beckoning for him to enter. While he didn't even know how he could get up there, he was quite curious, but never curious enough to take any sort of action.

Soon it was October, and with the crisp fall air sweeping through the streets and talk of Halloween costumes filling the water cooler chatter. The month quickly flew by, and with Halloween falling on a Saturday that year, parties were being thrown left and right.

Sam, dressed as a scarecrow, decided to venture with his friend Paul to check out a few different parties to celebrate Halloween. After staying longer than expected at a nearby bar, he found that he and Paul were unexpectedly close to his house. While things were already getting a bit loopy after the shots at the bar, Sam was relieved when they walked back on Ausiel to what was familiar territory for Sam.

As he waited with Paul and some other guests outside the apartment complex to get buzzed in, Sam was suddenly hit with a jolt of familiarity. The apartment building looked really, really familiar to him. As the buzzer went off and the gate was opened, he realized he was at the same building that had that strange door on its roof.

As Sam went in, he suddenly felt the urge to climb the stairs to see if he could finally find out what was going on with the strange door, but Paul threw his arm around his shoulder and led him into a ground-floor apartment.

"Whose party is this?" Sam asked. Paul just shrugged and informed him that it was the resident manager's apartment, but that the guy was a friend of a friend. As Paul scampered off to procure some more drinks, Sam absently rode the buzz and started looking around. The apartment wasn't lit very well, and dark curtains hung from every corner, dividing the room. Fake cobwebs were strung up upon bookshelves and on cheap prop candelabras decorating table tops.

As Sam made his way deeper into the party, pushing past the billowing black curtains and costumed guests towards what he assumed was a bathroom. When he finally found the door he assumed to be a bathroom, he pushed it open to find that it was actually some sort of closet. It was only a few square feet, but surprisingly, it was nearly empty, save for some long black coats that hung from a clothing bar stretched across the width of the closet.

What surprised Sam even more was that in the darkness, he could see light oozing out of a crack in the back wall of the closet. He looked back to see if he was being watched, but all he saw were guests dancing and completely engaged in their conversations. He stepped forward and found that the back wall wasn't a wall at all, it was a door. A door he had seen before every day on his way home from work.

Sam's pulse started to race and emboldened by the alcohol in his system he closed the closet door behind him and started groping into the closet, gently pushing away the coats. His hand ran against smooth, porcelain-like molding until he came to what found what he was looking for. As soon as his hand wrapped around the door handle, he knew it was the same door. Crystalline door handle set in an ornate steel locking mechanism, smooth porcelain finish, Sam had seen it a thousand times before and just feeling it in his hand, he could see it even in the dark.

As Sam slowly turned the handle and stepped past the hanging clothes, he found himself in a narrow passageway, seemingly between the walls of the apartment building. Naked wooden beams and posts surrounded him, foam insulation sprayed on either side of him. A bare lightbulb hung from a ceiling too high to see and disappeared into the darkness above him.

Sam slowly progressed down the claustrophobic hall, noting that he could hear sounds of the party through the thin walls. He came upon a rickety wooden staircase that ascended upwards into darkness. As he took careful step after careful step, he could hear sounds of other apartments now, horror movies being watched, other parties, bed creaks and moaning. He climbed the stairs for what seemed like a lot longer than he should have been able to, but he pressed on in the dim light.

Sam came suddenly to a dead-end. Was this it? Was this just some strange coincidence that led him to a wall of nothingness? It took a while for Sam to realize that he hadn't come to a dead end, but that the stairs simply turned to the left, as if it was spiraling up around the perimeter of the apartment building.

Sam continued to climb, this time in near darkness. As he stepped through the murky black, he wondered if this was some cruel trick - that eventually up here in the dark recesses of the building the stairs would just give in and he would tumble down to his doom, fated to be rot in the walls like some rat. But the stairs were study, and Sam continued to climb.

As time passed, Sam began to get confused. Was he really so drunk that he couldn't tell how far he had walked? He wasn't sure how many steps a flight of stairs would take to traverse the side of a building, but he had been walking for what seemed like a while, and he had already turned with the stairs five times now. Sam figured that he was, at the very least, above the entrance to the corridor, but the sheer height of it didn't quite make sense. He felt as if he had been walked up ten to fifteen stories worth of stairs, but the building was only four stories tall. He had made it a point to count out how many floors of windows the building had on multiple occasions.

Just as he was about to give up and turn back, through the darkness came a faint light, as if it was creeping through a door just slightly ajar. Suddenly Sam's resolve was back and he climbed on, slowing his pace so he would make less noise as he approached the pinnacle of the stairs. As the distance between them shrank, Sam noticed that it didn't seem to be made of porcelain. It was a bit too shiny, I looked more like polished bone.

Sam nearly laughed out loud at this thought, thinking it would be too absurd and impossible to find a bone large enough to carve an entire door out of. Just then, he could hear a strange chanting going on behind the door. As he neared, he attempted to slowly peek through the door, but leaning forward put off his sense of balance and as he stuck his hands out to brace himself, he ended up pushing the door in forcefully and stumbling inside.

Once inside, it took his eyes a while to adjust. Bright lights were directed towards the middle of the room where a metal table lay. After Sam rubbed his eyes, he found he was in a room with a tall, hooded man with deep-set cheekbones and old eyes. The man stepped foward and extended his hand. "Welcome Sam. I see you finally found the door you've been looking for."

"How..how do you know my name?" Sam looked around, suddenly noticing that there were others in the room, all cloaked with their hoods obscuring their faces. "I'm really sorry to burst in like this, but you see.."

"Oh, we know all about you Sam," spoke the tall man. He motioned for Sam to follow him and walked towards the center of the room. "We know that you've been dying to know what this room is, and how it can exist where it does." Sam was speechless. "Do you know what floor you're on, Sam?"

"Uh, I dunno," stammered Sam, taken aback by the tall man's knowledge of him. "We're in the attic, above the sixth floor?"

"Nice try, but how about the thirtieth floor?" The tall man smiled, the creases of his lips extending a bit farther up on his face than a normal human's smile should Sam stepped back, hesitantly.

The tall man continued. "Sam, I could try to explain to you how the door works, or how we're on the thirtieth floor in a four story building, or I could even explain to you what new door we're actually trying to open, but instead.." Sam suddenly realized that two of the shadowy figures had snuck behind him, and they quickly grabbed him by his arms.

Sam struggled to free himself, but someone else had already grabbed his shoulders and was trying to hold him still. Then there were hands on either side of his head, and a sharp sting in his neck. His captors suddenly let go. Sam stumbled forward, then backwards, and suddenly found himself sitting in a chair. "But instead," the tall man took a step closer to Sam, "I'm just going to show you."

"Sam, you are going to be part of this little experiment tonight. If you hadn't realized, it's just about midnight, so we really should get started." The tall man reached into his cape and slowly drew out a long, thin knife. "I apologize that the drug we just gave you only interrupts your voluntary motor control. You won't be able to talk, or scream, for that matter, but the unfortunately part is that you will most definitely be able to feel."

Sam's body felt like a dead weight. His head became heavy and he sank deeper into his chair. He tried to scream for help, but his body wouldn't listen. Two of the figures lifted Sam up and started to carry him towards the center of the room. "Well, Sam, it's time for us to say good-bye. We really hate to do this to you, but you know what they say, curiosity skinned the cat. Yes, yes, I know the saying is that curiosity killed the cat, but I've never met a creature that really survives too long after being skinned alive, you know? Say 'meow.'"

The Freedom to Be Happy

**First off, we wanted to take this opportunity to let you know that Monkey + Seal will be taking a short leave of absence. We'll be heading out of the country for two weeks on our first (longer-than-two-days) vacation in four years! We'll be taking lots of reference photos and trying to keep up with the art, but we won't be having any new posts for the next two weeks. We will be re-posting some of our older, favorite posts from the archives, but no newsletter! Thanks for sticking with us and we'll see you when we get back! End of announcement.**

You are most likely to have, at some point in your life, been disappointed, hurt, scared, worried, angry, frustrated, or all-around in the dumps. We can get frustrated at co-workers, or angry at ourselves for losing a wallet or purse, or worried that no one will like our art. Often times these negative emotions will build up and will suck us into a vortex of bad mojo.

No more! We say. We believe that everyone has the freedom to be happy, and we want you to find that freedom. We'll say this up front - being happy is a bit of work, but it is doable.

Part of reclaiming your freedom is realizing that "you don't have to go there." "There," being that place of doubt and fear and shame and worry. You can only affect your environment so much. Sometimes we'll do everything that we were told to do in order to succeed, and sometimes things will just go wrong. You'll set an alarm to wake up extra early, but then you end up forgetting something and you run late. Life doesn't always go perfectly to your expectations, and you can't control the actions of others, but you CAN control your own response.

Part of the idea of the Freedom to Be Happy is that happiness is something that you are free to become. It's not necessarily given to you, but it is something that you can CHOOSE to be. While there is a lot of grieve about, and we want to respect and honor your feelings when things go tremendously wrong, but in the end, you can choose to wallow in those feelings and let them debilitate you, or you can choose to acknowledge them, accept them, and then move on.

It can be a hard process to take ownership of your own feelings, but once you do, life seems a whole lot happier. You can worry about whether or not someone will like your newest sculpture, but is the worrying really going to help anything? You can stress out about whether or not the interviewers are going to like you, but is that stress going to make you magically more personable? Don't you think all that worry and stress is just going to make you more nervous? Most likely if you're worrying about the outcome you don't want to happen, the worrying will probably be a detriment to you rather than assist you.

Monkey + Seal have both been dealing with frustrations in their own lives, but time and time again, as we'll be venting to each other and getting frustrated or sad or angry, we ask each other "Is worrying going to solve the problem? Can you change it by getting angry?" It helps to take the emotional aspect out and it allows for you to approach the challenge in a rational manner which will help you to tackle the problem with actions rather than reactions.

Reactions are punching that person who insulted you, or are shredding your dumb boss' important documents. They may make you feel better momentarily, but do nothing to actually improve the situation or your mood in the long run. Actions are deciding to just ignore and avoid the toxic person who is upsetting you, or to speak with your boss or their boss or the HR person to figure out what they're doing wrong and how to go about changing that.

So if you have a new product, say, a new print, and you set up a presale and are worried about it selling, ask yourself, is worrying about the presale outcome going to change anything? By worrying and stressing and checking your email minute after minute to see if anyone bought anything going to really help? If you're worried about sales, why don't you take that time instead to send off press releases to blogs that you think might be interested in your product? Or how about you use the time to tweet and facebook about your new print? Or, if you can't help hitting refresh over and over, go take a walk and clear your head. And don't bring your smartphone, because you know you'll be checking your email from there.

Overall, it's about figuring out what you can control and what you can't. You can control your emotions, and how much work you put into whatever it is you're trying to achieve. You can't control other people or their actions. You can control whether or not you're prepared for rain, but you can't control whether or not your craft fair is rained out. You can control whether or not you practice enough for your dance recital or novel reading, but you can't control whether or not people like what you do.

So remember: you have the choice and the freedom to be happy. Whether or not you choose to be happy is a whole different story. By doing all you can and trying your best, that's all you really have control of. Let go of the worry about external factors that are out of your control, and you'll find that you'll be less stressed, you'll be more in-tune with what you really want and really care about, and you'll find that you'll discover new ways of making what you do want to happen come true.

Giving Up The Dream

Monkey here.

The other day, I had a sort of a crisis. Overworked, stressed, tired, and feeling like a great effort I put out for a project was totally wasted, for a second I thought: "I should just quit this art thing."

I pondered the possibility that I could just move back home with one of my parents, get a management job in some retail place, and just drink every day after work, watch my friends' band's shows, play video and board games in my spare time, and just grow old. I could just do nothing of great value or importance, and generally let my soul and passion slowly wither and die and "get a real job" that I hate but consistently pays the bills.

While there is nothing wrong with this sort of life if that's what you're into, for me, it brings up a huge wave of revulsion and disgust. I want to paint monsters and scared people and dark apothecary vials and tell horror stories and design shirts and paint Magic:the Gathering cards and see the world and inspire people to make art. I want to design video games and card games and board games and design a monster for a film and I want to never have to go to an interview again. For me, this is the path of greatness, of a dream chased and fulfilled, of the magic of the universe swirling in the palm of my hand. This is what I want my life to be.

So when I told Eve that I should just quit, she said "Fine then. Just quit." And immediately, I knew what my answer was: "I just can't."

I can't let the past four years of long nights and tens of thousands of dollars go to waste. I can't let all that I've worked for just fizzle out just because it got hard. I've tasted the appetizer of a dream fulfilled and I can't get it out of my head. I need it just as much as I need oxygen or food or water. Even if I fail, as long as I don't quit, I can still lay there dying and know that I tried my best and fought til the very end.

Now don't get me wrong - stopping or taking a break is much different than quitting. If the circumstances call for it, to survive maybe you think you do have to take a step backwards and there's no shame in that. But to quit - to truly give up on your dream...well, to be honest if I think you really could quit, you wouldn't be reading this blog.

You can't quit now. Whether your just starting or have been on the road for some time now, you've already taken that first step. You can feel that burning urge to do that thing in your life that you've always wanted. There's this welling up in your gut and tightening of your jaw when you let go of what society dubs normal and be honest with yourself and what you want. You start to hear the blood in your temples and a tingling in your hands. Whether or not you think you know what you want, you do - you just have to let your inner artist be truly honest with yourself and chase that truth til the end.

So do yourself a favor: if you think you can quit, fess up now, say a "good-bye" in the comments, and we wish you the best. But if you're one of the dreamers, one of the doers, one of clan of those who have tasted magic and want more, then share this with someone you think is of the like. Post your declaration in the comments. Talk to us on Facebook. Declare that you're gonna keep going and that you'll never quit. Make yourself an oath and tweet it.

The world is here for your taking. Let's get to work.

Go Away Grumpy Puss!

Monkey here.

I'm a big ol' grumpy puss today. I was going to try and write another inspiring post about the life and times of being an artist, but some days you're just not into it. I woke up in a nasty mood after waking up in the middle of an argument I was having in my dream with some sort of professor type person who was upset that I was arguing that the language of the question he asked the class was poor and offered too many possible answers.

To be honest, it's taking a lot to even write this blog post. I was up at noon thinking I was ready to fire something off, and it's taken me about four hours to even start. After various frustrating emails (both reading and writing them), I've come to terms with that fact that somedays we're just feeling off a bit.

Eve reminded me this afternoon that while Monkey + Seal strives to be an inspiration to other artists (people who don't know they're artists are still artists, btw), we're human as well. We have bad days when everything seems to go wrong. We get angry and frustrated and sit around in our underwear refusing to do anything really productive and just want to play video games all day. Today while I'm a big-ass grumpy Monkey, I feel the complete opposite of being inspiring. I want to, you know, maybe quit some stuff, commit a bit of arson, maybe shoot some arrows dipped in sewage into people's legs. Basically, there's that urge to be evil and depraved. I'm not going to do any of that sort of thing, and I'll probably end up just playing Zuma Blitz on Facebook for a while, but the natural feelings of frustration and anger and all-around negative emotions are what I'm dealing with today.

The reason I felt it was necessary to even tell you that instead of putting on some "you-can-do-it" supermask is that you will probably feel that way too sometimes. You'll doubt yourself, your life choices, you might want to strangle someone, or punch people in the face. You'll hate your job, your work, your life, etc. etc. etc. You too will have extremely craptastic days where nothing is going right and you just want to sit in bed and watch Godzilla movies all day.

Eve and I purposefully have posted some of our beginning work on this blog before, and plan to do so in the future. Why? Because we always end up seeing the end result. You buy a book by an artist and you see the good sketches, the final paintings, all the glorious hard work that they've done. You see the product of them busting their humps for years to build up the skills they have. You never see their first superhero drawing, or what they were like before they went to art school. You don't see their bad sketches, or the crappy early paintings, or the drafts that were rejected. You only see what they want you to se. It builds this image of immaculate awesomeness, and it's intimidating. We think "we could never do that" or something of the like.

Poop on that. Over here at Monkey + Seal, you get to see the real deal. So I actually just spent about twenty minutes looking for some digital versions of our old work, and I couldn't really find any (it's all archived someplace else), but believe me, I'm no stranger to showing you my old, craptacular work.

Anyway, the point is, is that everyone both starts from somewhere, and that everyone has bad days. It's fine, you're human, I'm human, and we all have crap days sometimes. Anyone who says otherwise is totally a robot and should be scorned.

So I hope that somehow you'll find this mildly incoherent post helpful in someway, if anything, to know that you're not alone. We all feel like poop sometimes, and unfortunately, it's just part of being human.

If that happens to be you today, let's work on getting out of the funk together. I plan on playing copious amounts of video games and proudly shirking my responsibilities for the day. While this might not be the most productive coping mechanism, hopefully I'll get it out of my system and get something done this evening. What do you do to get out of the funk? Post your coping mechanisms in the comments below and help someone else get out of the funk too!