One Little Foot in Front of the Other (although, I have fairly large feet for my height and gender, I like to think that makes me move a little faster(and I use a lot of parenteticals))

Those of you who have been in a show before know the feeling I am about to describe, those of you who haven't been in a live performance before, I can't image there's much of a way you could relate to it. Although, I like to think of it as someone who has sought after something for so long, and finally get what they've wanted (you know, like the Spaniard in The Princess Bride, with revenge) and have no idea what to do after they get it.

That being said, I should reiterate that being a part of a live performance is among one of the most rewarding experiences I have ever had (and will continue to have, hopefully). There is a feeling of pride and satisfaction that comes with the closing of show, but those feelings are often in flux with a bitter-sweetness of knowing you do not get to perform with these wonderful people in this amazing show together again. I could go on to talk about how hard it is to build a trust with each other and... blah blah blah, but those of you who know that don't need to hear it again, and those who don't, won't gain anything from my menial, disconnected, description.

Once the run of the show is over (in this case, it was a mere four days) there is a feeling of, "Oh my God! I have to look over that scene again before... oh. Yeah. Never mind." Which, is of course, why I spent all day yesterday giving the apartment a glorious, wonderful, delicious, utterly thorough deep-clean. Which means, I can finally show you pictures of the couch and shelving unit that took the place of my job a few short weeks ago:

TA DAH! So worth it, right? I'm still pretty excited about it.

Ah. And this is our cat. She helps with the decorating by looking good.

In fact, I've been trying very hard to embrace the excitement of my new life that does not include waiting tables. The anger and shame that came with the first few weeks has now begun to slowly fade away and is being replaced by a bit of a scramble to find some sort of work, which has actually been popping everywhere, from expected places and not so. I've got a ten week job teaching Jr. High students at a charter school. Just a few hours a week, but after the first week I think that will be plenty. I helped move furniture out of vacant apartments that actors borrowed while staying for the summer season. The owner of the yarn shop asked if I wanted more hours (actually, it was a much sweeter discussion that somehow ended up with me gushing about what an amazing place that is to work and how much I love the people that work there and shop there and hang out there. It was probably a little gratuitous, if, albeit honest). Craigslist never closes, holiday hiring for the busy shopping season will start any second now and the show pays a menial amount, but just enough to make me believe I'm a working actor.

And who knows what tomorrow holds?

Convincing Myself I'm Full of Worth

I've been slowly coming to the realization that not only is this the first time I've lost a job, but it is also the first time I have been simultaneously jobless and classless (as in going to class, I still have plenty of class personally, no worries there) since I was fourteen. Yeah. Fourteen. That's 11 years. I am busy, truly, but without a consistent income I find my self feeling relatively worthless on a pretty regular basis.

So! To combat this icky feeling, I've been doing strange things that you normally would find me doing sporadically at any given time, now doing them regularly. Here's a sample of my life lately:

• Going to yoga. Regularly. Like 5 times a week, which is a little insane, but it always gives me that happy feeling afterwards. Borderline smug, actually, which comes with an icky-ness of it's own.
• Cleaning. This one's just weird. Doing the dishes every morning. Sweeping. (Vacuuming! Now that I have one) Regular visits to the laundry room. Folding cloths instead of throwing them on the floor. Organizing closets. Scrubbing the kitchen.
• Actually cooking meals that are more than following directions on a box (working at a restaurant had it's one irreplaceable quality of dirt cheap and delicious food).
• Checking Craigslist every morning to see what sort of amazing job could be in my future.
• Knitting. Okay, this one isn't really surprising to anyone, it's just been A LOT of knitting. And unfortunately I've lost my will to not have more than three projects on the needles at a time now. I think at the moment I have closer to eight. Yikes. Like this:

And this:

• Oh yeah, and blogging. Apparently I do that now too.

Sadly, no matter how hard I'm focusing on other things and how much I throw myself into memorizing lines, or finding a job, or knitting a sweater, or warrior II the fact of the matter is, I'm not bringing in any sort of income at all. It's strange, it's not a feeling of desperation for me quite yet. Luckily I plan for these types of situations and have a cushion to fall back on. I just can't shake that feeling of not bringing in money=worthless. Don't get me wrong. I know my definitions of value and worth are seemingly melding in this post, but I know I'm getting some very valuable and very worthwhile things done in this time, but that doesn't make it any easier to ignore the fact that I don't have anything immediately dependable to rely on.

Well. Except for me.

I Lost my Job and Got a Couch

I did indeed, lose my job for the first time in my short little history on this world.

I have, in the past, treated my jobs as many women treat their men. I've left them, easily and not so, I've loved them, secretly hated them, respected them, sometimes they've respected me. This one came as rather a shock. I'm not sure I would go so far as to say I loved this job. I certainly had a huge amount of respect for this job, and worked very hard to make sure that was recognized. I did, however, love, more than anything, the people who worked with me there. Never have I met a group of smarter, sweeter people all under one roof.

Why did I lose it, one may ask? Good question. That's still up for debate, and truly, at this point matters very little. Let's just say I did not take it well, and there was quite a bit of crying and ice cream and more crying that went along with the weekend following.

Now to the good part: After living in a couch-less apartment for nearly four months now, we finally got a couch. An amazing, beautiful, sweet (HUGE) red leather couch. And it is delightful. Actually, we also got a huge shelving unit from IKEA. And a vacuum (don't judge me for not vacuuming for four months). Our apartment looks like grown-ups live here now, which is strange, but rather wonderful as well.

That all being said, I now have a shelving unit to pay off (the couch was a screaming deal from our favorite local coffee shop, and the vacuum is on lend for the winter). So the job hunt begins. I haven't applied for a job anywhere in five years, so my resume need some major re-buffing, which was both depressing and impressive. I dropped resumes everywhere that I had always secretly wanted to work but didn't have time to and while I've been under a bit of a cloud for the last few days (the feelings that come with being "taken off the schedule" are some of the most horrid, confidence-killing ones I've ever experienced) I've found something really amazing over the last two days. The people I know here, the friends I've made are absolutely incredible. Anywhere I've gone to drop a resume and someone I know is there, they've tried to help me in every way possible. These are not friends I've had for years, or really even people I've ever had an actual conversation with. These are all friends of friends or people I see regularly downtown and they want to help me. It has been a super warm and fuzzy feeling.

Now that I have these next four months to... well... anything, I've realized that I'm busier now than I have been since I graduated college two years ago; and it's all stuff I actually want to be doing. I'm teaching classes at a knitting store, working on two shows and a project that we're looking to take internationally in the late Spring. It's the most theater work I've done since college, and hopefully some of the best.

I'm actually glad I didn't lose a couch and find a job.