I can't blame the job. Sure, I have to work extra hours sometimes, but that's OK with me. It's a great job, pays well, good benefits, and keeps me interested. But once it's over, there just aren't enough hours in the day.
Arting is hard. Fitting it into spurts of 1.5 hours after dinner and before bed makes it harder. I just want to start in the morning and go all day. But I can't, not even on weekends, because of the chores.
Cut into working out - no. The older I get, the more spoiled my body becomes. It can no longer tolerate with grace a half-pizza before bed. If I don't work out, I get more tired, punchy, and hungry for crap food. Work out, crave chicken. Don't work out, crave ice cream. Hmm. Health is way up there on my priority list, just after money, since I'm stuck with this body for a while.
Cut into sleep - maybe. But it couldn't last long; when I'm short on sleep, my mind starts spacing out. If I'm running on only a few hours, then in the afternoon I'll start losing chunks of consciousness. My eyes are open, but my brain is out to lunch. I guess it's making up for all those luscious hours of sleep during which it would have gotten its usual allotment of blanking out. Still, it's a technique I could try... Beware of the sleep-deprived woman with gouache under her fingernails, coming to your area this Friday afternoon.