LADEELEROY

2003-07-10

GUESTBOOK
PROFILE
OLDER ENTRIES
E-MAIL ME
12% BEER
DIARYLAND
 
This is the part where I complain about how my life is going according to plan.
 
  Plain and simple.

I'm just fucking busy. Seriously fucking busy.

And that's a really really shitty excuse, but it's all I got right now.

When Alex died, I went into this state of making myself think that I had to keep up a normal life. That I had to not let the death of a part of my heart stop me from continuing on with the lifestyle that was routed out before hand.

So I said "yes" to almost every project that was offered. If I said "no" that would mean that I was less than perfect, right?

And no one can ever ever know that I am less than perfect. Ever.

Then I got fired. (Right back atcha Mr. Zero) Getting fired means not having any income.

So what do I do? I say "yes yes yes" to any other projects that may have some sort of financial benefit.

Wanna do this play?

"Yes."

Wanna do this contract work?

"Yes."

Wanna write this scene?

"Yes."

Wanna do this other play?

"Yes."

Wanna keep your house?

"Yes."

Wanna eat?

"Yes."

Wanna do this other play?

"Yes."

Wanna get a job?

"Yes."

Wanna do this other play when that other play is done and your rehearsing for that other play?

"Yes."

Wanna feel like your in control?

"Yes."

Wanna pretend like everything is fine and you're quite capable of continuing your life with a little emptiness that can be drowned out with your incredible business?

"Yes. Please."

Fast foward to now.

I go to work at 8AM. I get home at 6:00PM. I got to rehearsal on the ohter side of town at 7:00PM. I get home at about 11:15PM. I eat. I shower. Sleep. Repeat.

This has been my life for the last 3 months. I'm not complaining.

Okay, yes. I am complaining. But to be honest and fair and sincere... I love my job. I love the projects I'm working on. I love that I am actually doing stuff that I truly want to do. It's wonderful.

I just wish that, way back in December/January, I had said "No" at some point. To have some sort of foresight that I'm only human and to expose myself to such a ass breaking pace would sooner or later catch up with me.

I'm fucking tired. I want to pull my couch up to my computer and just veg out. Update the journal. Answer the 96 new e-mail messages I haven't responded to. Call my family to let them know that I do love them and remember who they are. Call my friends to see how their lives are doing. Maybe make out with Lipman a bit.

Of course. I know that this would only appease me for about 72 hours. Then I'd get bored and begin to think that I'm wasting my life.

What a fucking mind fuck I am.

Sigh.

Gr.

Sigh.

 
Get All Notified:

I know you were here.
Mellowwwwnade
Copyright 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004 L.Leroy