Well, kinda, in the sense that I treat my entire existence as a workshop. Always tinkering, but never really accomplishing anything. Like Inspector Clouseau but with no case to speak of. A tortured artist who’s only accomplished piece will be the grease stain on the cat-scratched couch. Too busy waiting on life to actually enjoy it. Too much to do to accomplish anything at all.

But I’m doing better than I used to. I used to drink!