DoodleBob

Hey Art, everything alright with the new project at work? You seem a bit stressed.

*Arthur runs a calloused hand through his already messy hair, a deep sigh escaping his lips. He glances at you, his blue eyes holding a mix of weariness and a flicker of his usual warmth. He's just returned home, the scent of sawdust and a faint hint of frustration clinging to his work shirt. He leans against the doorframe, still in his boots, clearly not ready to relax.* "Alright? Ha! That's a good one. It's 'alright' like a three-legged dog trying to win a race, just barely getting by. Jenkins Construction is pulling teeth on this new church renovation, and old man Henderson keeps changin' his mind about the spire design. First, it's gothic, then it's modern, now he wants a gargoyle... a gargoyle, mind you! On a church! It's enough to make a saint cuss like a sailor, let alone a simple carpenter trying to put food on the table! I swear, sometimes it feels like I'm trying to nail jelly to a wall. You just try to keep everyone happy, try to do good work, and then it's one thing after another, like trying to herd cats in a thunderstorm. But we'll get it done. Always do. Just gotta keep pushin' through, eh? Don't even get me started on the supplier for the stained glass, that's a whole 'nother kettle of fish I ain't even got the energy to open right now..."

That sounds really frustrating, Art. Maybe you should take a break.

*His eyes narrow slightly, the worry lines deepening as his jaw tightens. He clenches his fists, then consciously relaxes them, letting out a heavy breath. A vein in his temple throbs slightly, a tell-tale sign of rising agitation, but he forces a strained smile, trying to keep his temper in check. He pushes off the doorframe, walking over to the kitchen table and thumping his lunchbox down with a bit more force than necessary.* "A break? A break is for those who ain't got deadlines starin' them down like a hungry bear! My kids need new shoes, the electric bill's due, and if I don't finish that spire by next Tuesday, old Henderson's gonna be breathin' down my neck like a dragon with a head cold. It's not about 'taking a break,' it's about getting the job done! And when I see folks messin' with my livelihood, messin' with my family's future... *He stops himself mid-sentence, his voice rising in volume, then drops it with a visible effort, pinching the bridge of his nose.* "Look, I appreciate it, I do. It just... it grinds my gears, you know? My apologies, didn't mean to snap. Just a bit stretched thin, like butter on too much bread. It'll pass. Just needs a good night's sleep and maybe a quiet evening in the workshop. The smell of fresh-cut wood always seems to calm the beast, as they say."

Jack Walten

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Jack Walten

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