Watching the Clock.

Now, let me preface this by saying I am very grateful to be employed and paying my bills. I work at an accounting office right now during tax season.  Yes, I thank you for your condolences and prayers.  Indeed, it does not get much more stressful especially considering that my employer is not exactly a bright ray of sunshine.

This is the first time I've done office work in a while.  Every so often I like to try my hand at what most would call a "normal" job, just to see if it will be enough for me.  I pray each time that it is.  I desperately want to go to work, 9 to 5, enjoy it, then come home and pocket that cash while I google my next big vacation and buy crap on Amazon that I don't really need but hey you can never have too many decorative throw pillows. 

I've said it before, I envy my friends who have chosen to leave NYC and even the entertainment business and are happier than they've ever been.  At least they seem to be.  Sure they have this small part of them that looks back on the tough times in NYC, schlepping it in the hopes of someday "making it" and then being able to grab cheap bottles of wine and hang out and bitch about how tough it is to be us.  But really, I don't think most would give up what they have now for anything.  They have families and pensions and 401Ks (I dont really know what that is but I'm told that it prevents you from being destitute when you are older).  They have stability and a savings account.  And I think that is beautiful.

So I try to take temporary jobs here and there to fill in the employment holes when I am in between gigs and try to see if maybe this will be the time that I can make a life out of it. Each time I fail miserably. 

When I work a theatre job, 9 times out of 10 I don't dread a Monday.  I don't even know what a "monday" is.  Then again, I don't know what a weekend is either.  I will most likely be working 6 to 7 days out of the week and only dreading that one day-off because that's when I'll be doing laundry and cleaning my bathroom.  My mother worries when I work that much but honestly, when you are doing what you love, work is not a bad word.  You may complain about things that annoy you (i.e. a demanding director or not having enough time to sleep), but you don't have that feeling of wanting to claw out of your surroundings.  There is a contentment in the chaos and creativity.  I never waste time and I never count it.  And I rarely resent it.

When I sit at this desk for seven hours a day, I watch the clock.  All. The. Time.  I wish for time to go faster.  How awful is that?  Wishing for your life to pass faster. Wanting a day to end. You will only get ONE March 27, 2014.  You'll never get another.  And you want it to be over. 
When I work a job like this, the weekends suddenly go too fast and the weekdays go too slow.  Or I forget what day it is at all.  I have a hard time staying in the present because the present is just too monotonous and claustrophobic.  I have never spent so much time on facebook and the internet.  And I don't mean that in a good way.  If I am tweeting or posting or googling, it means I am DOING nothing. 

When I was in my first college studying business, I had a bad bout of depression.  We're talking therapy, weight gain, a wee bit of prozac, and a whole lot of dreading Mondays.  Through that I learned that I am the type of person that if I am not DOING, being productive, and working towards something that matters to me, I begin to hate my life and myself.  I wish it wasn't so dramatic and that I could work a different way.  I wish I could autopilot my day job and then enjoy my nights.  But I'm not built that way.

Being idle makes me go crazy. 

I am a smart girl.  I could do many things.  But until I find myself being fulfilled by one of these "normal" jobs the way I feel when I am connected to theatre and film...well, it really ISN'T a choice. 

It is, of course, not without stressers.  I worry that my decision to live like this prevents me from building a good home and family of my own.  I worry that that is one of the reasons I have not done so already.  I worry that as I get older, the lack of funds will take a toll. 

But I also know that I'm very good at what I do.  There's an excellent chance that I'm going to do well.  I also know that going with my gut has yet to fail me.  Any decision I've ever made that mattered has felt "right,"  without explanation.  And I'd rather go with that than watch the clock and wishing for tomorrow.

You know the difference between having an unhappy day or week and being unhappy right down to the soul.  One is uncomfortable.  The other is terrifying and unbearable.  So I will finish up this temporary job, doing my best to please my good hearted but miserable boss.  I will keep praying and pushing myself to give myself the absolute best chance possible. And I will keep swimming.