…In the event of an emergency, please hang out unobtrusively where you are, and someone might (or might not) be with your shortly.
In the meantime, please enjoy your free packet of peanuts. Unless you are allergic. In which case:
…Welcome to Hell, this is your Captain speaking…
***
I’ve gone dormant and underground. For a couple of days. I have found out that in this day and age of constant status and text updating, it really freaks people out.
…So this is to the freaking out people: don’t freak out. That’s my job. I’m basically on retirement pension. I’ve covered the whole field so well, they decided just to give it to me as a whole package deal. With stock options. Like when a sports player leaves and they retire the jersey number. That’s me. I’m just that good.
Anyway, this is where I’ve been for these past days. In purgatory. Which is a lot like free-floating space, really. No general direction or force to be pushed in, so you just “be.” Floating there. Waiting.
Waiting.
…Which we all know that actors are totally awesome at, right?
…So…where (at the moment) I can recognize that I am in “purgatory”… in reality, it’s felt a lot like the other place, with hellfire damnation and anxiety episodes riding one right after the other. Prob’ly because they have, and it is, and has been.
…And that was just to do with shit at the office.
Other decisions needed to be made, that really sucked, as well.
And none of this is really “finished,” per se. I’m still floating here. Still waiting.
Every day at the office, this week, is a possible “last.” I’ve pulled myself from casting possiblities in a show I’ve been wanting to do for like…oh, a decade… and I had a MOTHER of an anxiety attack Sunday night, to show for it all.
Because I’m a human.
That’s all.
And I know that.
But, still.
It sucks.
And now, we have reached the halfway mark.
…The cusp of Wednesday.
…I’ve thrown my hat into a new casting ring, last minute, which will offer more role challenge bang-for-my-buck…I’ve got two MORE top-brass Corporate big-wigs arriving at the office tomorrow…I’m on day two, of minion training. They tell me the warehouse inventory numbers are off by around $118,000…I’ve spent two days now, trying to divorce my mind from performance-based Scottish, to re-invigorated Irish dialect by tomorrow’s callback at 7:30, and no matter WHAT, I HAVE to get my shit together by Thursday, so I can…you know…go on stage and be “funny” for two hours each, across the next four days.
And I will.
Cuz I’m an “actor.”
…We are pretty fucking amazing when it comes to resilience and crap.
In “real” life, not so much, but on stage? Move over Baby Jane.
So for now, I’ll just keep my head low, hug the turf, position my pads accordingly, and get ready for the inevitable whistle blow, when they finally pop the ball and this shit starts getting real. Until then…
…Until then, I’ll just wait here.
…Floating in the nothingness.
…Waiting for whatever the hell comes next, to just show up and finally fucking happen.
~D
