(no subject)
It's my last semester. In four months time I could be basically homeless and unemployed, or I could be living at home and taking one of the the jobs i've been offered in orlando. I don't know which one scares me more.
i want desperately to get out of the area, out of the state, possibly out of the country. But I'm incapable of making decisions.
I fear I'm dangerously close to being engaged. he makes me happy but he's very, very wrong for me--lately because he's in japan, for crying out loud. seriously? japan?
I'm nearing the end of an incredibly rewarding season. My resume is glowing with accomplishment. I'm working for a somewhat famous director and a somewhat famous scene designer, and I've realized that I don't much care if I never see a theatre again. and why bother anyway? It's an incredibly ego-stroking industry, certainly not helping make the world a better place, subsidized to the nth degree, and already glutted with more eager and overqualified artsy-types than it can handle.
i get irrationally frustrated when things that should work don't. To be perfectly frank, I'm terrified of becoming an adult and having to put up with things that just don't go the way they should, and not being able to do anything about it. I'd rather stay here, where an elegantly written but vaguely threatening letter to the appropriate department head will get things fixed.
i want desperately to get out of the area, out of the state, possibly out of the country. But I'm incapable of making decisions.
I fear I'm dangerously close to being engaged. he makes me happy but he's very, very wrong for me--lately because he's in japan, for crying out loud. seriously? japan?
I'm nearing the end of an incredibly rewarding season. My resume is glowing with accomplishment. I'm working for a somewhat famous director and a somewhat famous scene designer, and I've realized that I don't much care if I never see a theatre again. and why bother anyway? It's an incredibly ego-stroking industry, certainly not helping make the world a better place, subsidized to the nth degree, and already glutted with more eager and overqualified artsy-types than it can handle.
i get irrationally frustrated when things that should work don't. To be perfectly frank, I'm terrified of becoming an adult and having to put up with things that just don't go the way they should, and not being able to do anything about it. I'd rather stay here, where an elegantly written but vaguely threatening letter to the appropriate department head will get things fixed.