Fully invested in an educational, creative, social and professional life focused on excellence, I thought that my obvious dedication would prove lucrative. I have been doing this all the way wrong. My aggressively provocative studio approach practically ensures that I'll be read from the edges. And here is only a little bit of money there! How am I going to pay for a caftan-clad seniorhood, dripping in jewelry from my travels, and the seaside bungalow? I can't eat my genius! When I find myself in a persistent state of broke-ocity, I am inspired to push through the angst and investigate alternatives. Serving up "terrible" seems like a cruel punishment given my predilection for overachievement, so mediocrity could be my best chance at survival. 'Fair to middling' will be my mantra, and with all the energy I'll save not trying to exist ahead of the (bell) curve, I'll probably fall into a pile of money that I usually miss on my typical route to greatness.