picking up unsold paintings

Well I have reached a new point in my blogdom... I shhall write about feelings... ooohhh!!!!
I was thinking about it in the bath and even got out of it to write this.
Picking up paintings. - So crap, and I have done this twice this week. - You know you won't sell all of them, but so much effort and you sell three.- and two of them to the woman who runs the gallery, and I'm suposed to be relatively successful. You go to pick up the others, which you will have to return to them in a month, and the girl explains they just don't have the room to store them.- Yeah sure. So now they have none of my work to show anyone who may be interested. Its so easy to sell them from my studio,- I don't think. I look on the walls... nice paintings there. Well painted. So well painted they could be photoshopped. They are sole less like a computer game backdrop, not a brush stroke or mark. "We sold out of him at the last fair..." Well there you go,- What am I bothering for, and my works not exactly challenging... I daren't do that anymore, they don't even hang it, that's not what they have come to expect from me. Arrrgh!!!!
Going back to the bath now,- but still feel churned up.