Sometimes you just wake up, you know? Like, drenched. Not just a little clammy, I mean like someone dumped a bucket on you. And it's always around 3:17 AM. I've checked. Three nights in a row it was 3:17, last night 3:18... It’s exhausting, then I go into work, you try to lead a meeting, and all you can think about is that feeling, that feeling of knowing you should have just kept painting. You just… you always wonder if you made the wrong choice, don't you?