“I lost another piece of gear,” I said.

Otis didn’t even bother looking up.

“Drum throne,” I added. “Just… gone.”

He blinked once. “Must’ve been comfortable.”

“Drove the whole band across the state. Nobody offered to pay for gas.

Dragged my PA in, set everything up… they roll in five minutes before downbeat.

Sent a client a mix. They took it, then disappeared.

And I had to go track down my own powered monitor… sitting in somebody else’s living room.”

Otis went back to licking his paw vacuously. 

“You busy?” I asked.

“Watching you run a charity,” he said.

“I’m feeling used.”

He looked up. “Used? You’re not being used. You’re on clearance.”

Otis stood, stretched. “Next time someone asks to borrow something,” he added, “decide if you’re lending it, or donating it to the Museum of Bad Decisions.” 

He rubbed against my leg. “Stop whining. And I’m going to need a treat to forget your misery.”

Can We Help You?

What are you willing to lose to protect your creative boundaries?

Draw the line, or watch it disappear.

If this hit close to home, don’t keep it to yourself. Drop a comment and say where your line actually is.

Share it with someone still running a charity with their time and gear.

Subscribe if you’re done confusing access with respect.

Otis is grateful. And hopeful you finally figured it out.

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