Stage One: I am in a perfect position to succeed. My client is pleased with my proposed thumbnails (and why wouldn't they be?), so they have all been approved. Freedom is mine! Choices abound; the opportunities are endless! Verily, there is nary an obstacle in sight!
Stage Two: I have consumed four cups of coffee - for reasons purely associated with efficiency and NOT chemical dependency. I am a person of my word. I am young and hopeful. There is time yet for a Netflix movie or three.
Stage Three: I always knew that being an Artist Of My Word would bring pain someday, and that is why I have come prepared with a massive collection of queued-up podcasts. These podcasts will surely rejuvenate me. If not, there is always caffeine.
Stage Four: I have consumed thirteen cups of coffee. I am now at 97% Optimization. Two more podcasts and I will be at 99.9% Optimization. Sleep is out of the question.
Stage Five: It appears that I have forgotten how to hold a pencil. I'm not sure if I've ever drawn a proper thing in my life. What IS art, anyhow? Who is to say that life itself is not a work of art? Whom am I trying to please, if not my own sense of righteousness?
Stage Six: Oh, right - the client. They have asked me for 27 revisions as politely as possible, as soon as possible. I didn't want to sleep anyway.
Stage Seven: @#$%
Stage Eight: Are we human? Or are we denser? I think we're denser than this piece of dry toast I'm eating for - oh what is it now? Brunch? Lunch? Sad dinner? At this point, it's just drawing fuel. I am an art machine that runs on college food and last minute panic. I had pocky for breakfast, bacon for lunch, and popcorn for dinner. My drawing hand is moving steadily, irrespective of my motives or brain capacity. How then, can it possibly be a lie when I text you, “it’s nearly finished,” when I wish so deeply for it to be true?
Stage Nine: I can no longer identify the tangents in my drawings. I flipped my canvas horizontally, and everything became instantly worse. My life became instantly worse.
Stage Ten: HERE IS THE ART YOU WANTED, FOR I AM TRUE TO MY WORD. I'VE ATTACHED IT TO THE EMAIL THAT I FAILED TO PROOFREAD. PLEASE ACCEPT
I am a worthy art professional full of professionalism and artistry. At no point during the making of this piece did I want to scream into the void or drastically alter my profession. Thank you for working with me. I shall sleep now!