what has happened to me?
i haven't been posting a lot recently.
i haven't felt like there was much to post.
sure, i see things on the subway, and think things when i'm walking home. but for the most part it seems like one day is in no way unique from the next.
i wake up. i'm tired. my legs hurt. i get on the train. sometimes i read a book, sometimes i fall asleepish. i get to work. i try to plan out my shift. i plow through my shift, using half hour increments to mark the time till i can leave. i vascillate between wanting to put in my 3 week notice and wanting to tough it out to prove i can tough something out. i get on the train. i bemoan the fact that it's 2am and everyone i love is asleep and i have gone another day without sending out a letter, or talking with someone i love. i get home. i fart on the internet. i dream of how i'd like my life to be. i go to bed clenching my jaw and dream that i'm at work.
the dreaming i'm at work is the worst. sometimes i wake up crying. then i realize it was a dream, and i can't even escape it in my sleep, and in just 3 hours i'll have to go do exactly what i was dreaming about.
sometimes my legs keep me awake because they're so twitchy from standing for so long, and there is no stretch or yoga that will relax them.
i don't read about broadway anymore. i don't buy backstage magazine anymore. i don't even look at the silly craigslist ads anymore.
i don't know if i should get a temp job i'll hate just as much, or if i should keep putting applications in to every theatre in ny, or if i should take all those silly bit roles for nyu students or what.
i signed a one year lease with lulu because i want to force myself to stay. i want to find my drive to succeed again. i want to succeed.
i just feel like it's impossible. that i'm ill equipped and not destined for it. and that's the worst, because there is nothing else i want to do or have planned to do.
and i can't just run away, because i have something that i want to stay for even more.
this is my day to day. i've written this a million times before. i'm sick of thinking about it, writing about it, living it. and i have no idea how to change it without putting my entire summer and my living situation at risk. i can't go any more into debt, and i just don't know what to do.
i have headaches all the time.
i need to sleep.
for anyone in nyc who is my friend, i do not have work from 4pm tomorrow to 4am friday. that's 12 hours in which, if i have people around me i will go see a movie, or have dinner at a new restaurant, or walk around various places in the city, or snuggle up to watch tv shows.
if no one is there, i go home and repeat my abysmal cycle.
so, if you'd like to give me a jolt of much needed happiness, i encourage you to call me at about 4pm.
i haven't felt like there was much to post.
sure, i see things on the subway, and think things when i'm walking home. but for the most part it seems like one day is in no way unique from the next.
i wake up. i'm tired. my legs hurt. i get on the train. sometimes i read a book, sometimes i fall asleepish. i get to work. i try to plan out my shift. i plow through my shift, using half hour increments to mark the time till i can leave. i vascillate between wanting to put in my 3 week notice and wanting to tough it out to prove i can tough something out. i get on the train. i bemoan the fact that it's 2am and everyone i love is asleep and i have gone another day without sending out a letter, or talking with someone i love. i get home. i fart on the internet. i dream of how i'd like my life to be. i go to bed clenching my jaw and dream that i'm at work.
the dreaming i'm at work is the worst. sometimes i wake up crying. then i realize it was a dream, and i can't even escape it in my sleep, and in just 3 hours i'll have to go do exactly what i was dreaming about.
sometimes my legs keep me awake because they're so twitchy from standing for so long, and there is no stretch or yoga that will relax them.
i don't read about broadway anymore. i don't buy backstage magazine anymore. i don't even look at the silly craigslist ads anymore.
i don't know if i should get a temp job i'll hate just as much, or if i should keep putting applications in to every theatre in ny, or if i should take all those silly bit roles for nyu students or what.
i signed a one year lease with lulu because i want to force myself to stay. i want to find my drive to succeed again. i want to succeed.
i just feel like it's impossible. that i'm ill equipped and not destined for it. and that's the worst, because there is nothing else i want to do or have planned to do.
and i can't just run away, because i have something that i want to stay for even more.
this is my day to day. i've written this a million times before. i'm sick of thinking about it, writing about it, living it. and i have no idea how to change it without putting my entire summer and my living situation at risk. i can't go any more into debt, and i just don't know what to do.
i have headaches all the time.
i need to sleep.
for anyone in nyc who is my friend, i do not have work from 4pm tomorrow to 4am friday. that's 12 hours in which, if i have people around me i will go see a movie, or have dinner at a new restaurant, or walk around various places in the city, or snuggle up to watch tv shows.
if no one is there, i go home and repeat my abysmal cycle.
so, if you'd like to give me a jolt of much needed happiness, i encourage you to call me at about 4pm.