Do You Ever Feel Like You're in a Box?
Reinforcing my position Alone Preparing for something Prepared for nothing Endlessly waiting Determined |
Work day…like any other. Way too many calls coming in from way too many people. Tuesday is what I fondly call “Conference call Tuesday!” I’m in conference calls from 8:30 until the end of the day, but somehow I’m still expected to return my voice mails. Yesterday I hit a record of 167 phone calls. Today I will return them....NOT!
After work yesterday, I wanted to go work out, but really felt the need to just decompress. So down the street with my yellow book to the Starbucks for a little coffee and some writing. I should explain. I have several different writing journals, each with different meanings.
- Green: my art journal. Mostly sketches, pictures that catch my eye, color combinations I might want to do in a future picture.
- Yellow: Comedy and theater journal: This journal is the one where I prepare all my comedy routines, as well as observations of people in my environment. I usually take this journal to coffee shops and will write down random things I hear and figure ways to use them in future comedy monologues.
- Black: The dark journal. I have a will that makes one very explicit instruction. Burn the black journal. This is the journal that I let nobody ever read, including myself. I only write things I may be afraid to face.
So off to grab a "Why Bother?" (decaf nofat latte), grab a seat, and take in some scenery. The one thing I hate about the Starbucks near my home is that it is a singles bar without the alcohol. I’ve seen more random hookups start there that at the local gay bar.
Ended up running into Pat and Car who had just gotten out of an AA meeting. Sad as it may sound, I am awfully glad when I speak to these two people. Any time I think my life may have been bad, just listening to some of the things these two have been through is enough to make my life a bed of roses.
Somehow the conversation turned philosophical regarding self-esteem and self worth. I made a point that a lot of people go into theater for the wrong reasons, looking for self esteem. The audience applauds you, and therefore you feel loved. The problem is how hard it is to get work in theater (even unpaid work). I auditioned 568 times in New York before I got my first part. I had to learn that auditioning was the real performing, and luck had a lot to do with it.
After the conversation, we went over to see Car’s new house. He’s bought this mammoth home that has been converted into three apartments. Car is looking at it as an investment. I’m looking at it as form of bondage. He will be tied to that mortgage for the next 20 years. Must be my fear of commitment lobe going off.
I have to admit that the house is incredible. Huge porches in both the front and back, and a far enough distance off the road that traffic noise really isn’t an issue. To be perfectly honest though…I like my place better. It’s quiet, off any busy streets, and I have two floors (so I can hide my laundry when people come over).
So because of the busy night…My personal writing is now behind a bit. Tonight...6 good pages. That's my goal. Oh...and to meet a sane single man in Cleveland...maybe I'll get 12 pages done.
