oh fucking well to…yes
I think this revamping of my life thing would be going much much better if I had some more energy, but there’s not a hell of a lot I can do with manifesting that. Don is gone at night and things are quiet and lonely and I inevitably get tired and pass out on the couch—I wake up between 12-2–crawl to our bed alone with the poop (the Poop is the Duke btw)–he’s Don’s dog but knows I keep him alive, for the most part. I usually re-wake up about 4–stay up for an hour or so and try to pass out again which I can sometimes do and sometimes I just get up when Don gets home.
So I thought I was saved or really it was the universe yelling at me to finally do the thing I wanted to do as I got an email about a voice over class I had been looking to do yesterday afternoon–the only issue is its location is really super inconvenient and is not serviced by any public transportation directly so I have to take a train and bus out to a mall and then take another car to the place and we don’t have a second car as we sold it for scrap the DAY, yes, the DAY I went into the hospital for the blood clot, isn’t my timing fucking epic? If I did it, I would have to be absolutely serious and never miss a class and hope I could hook myself into some audio books even after it was done. Preferably if I could still read and speak coherently.
Then, in my hopes to find more voice over classes, I found a class on being a notary because I have read being an on-call one would be a possible moneymaker. One thing I can say I have tried to do with some consistency as an adult is take a class every once in a while. I haven’t taken one in a few years but it is something that I have tried to maintain since moving West and even in NY it was something I would do–though most of those were self-help or fitness-based. I did the Landmark Forum and tons of other yoga classes etc. Then there was the Columbia University experiment which were classes I really thought I wanted to take–and I only got fat A and A+’s in ART of all things. But most classes are not graded that I am into these days, though I am a bit of an overachiever anyways. I am not sure how I am going to be in a voice over situation—if I can be in a dark closet without anyone looking at me, it might be far easier. Acting in front of a bunch of people–I also haven’t done that in years. Of course in NY–if you lived there for any period of time, it would be strange to not have someone drag you into a casting call for a commercial though I was always bitter about my modeling prospects and the agencies–they didn’t think I was “All American Girl” enough for them. I still think I could have done it for one of the big agencies had they given me a chance.
Oh, another thing. Medical billing–would that be a thing to do? I know, I know, the copy writing–maybe I will be better at that than I think. But for now I feel better having a sure thing vs a bunch of possibles. Keep in mind this is the first time in my life I could be on my husband’s insurance so there is SOME flexibility with my employment, though–honestly just going for anything seems like I am catering too much to my hobbies and whims vs being smarter and practical. The voice over stuff, yes, 20 years I have talked about it because of this voice I used to have more than what I have now–and maybe it’s time to do it. ARGGHH. I feel like the clot is telling me to do the things I still want to do, NOW. So my list is :
Yeah the blogs revamping, yes. But the art show, the voice over, the book (s). I hope, the second chance magazine cover or ad–I had only tattoo magazine covers. Eventually I will get on instagram–I need Don’s help there–he’s the one who has that experience. Guess it’s time to stop talking about it as something I will do eventually and start doing all I can. There’s the travel thing, I want to build a go cart and the bus home and yeah, there’s a few other things, but right now, I need to make money. Fuck however much time I have, I just have to do it. I really just have to do it.
The past few years I was recovering from the whole rejection angle, I think. That shit almost wrecked me entirely. And I was afraid, of course of hurting too many people doing anything I really wanted to do. The past few weeks it’s just been me trying to make shit happen because obviously I have no choice. I am wayyy less anxious about it all at this point because I have very little control over what happens beyond the food and exercise I can do. Yes, reducing my stess would be the best but at this point isn’t being alive always pretty stressful? Today’s step count 11,730. Left to the grocery store to get something–blueberries and butter lettuce. Talked to the voice over people. Worked a bit. Made some dinner Don didn’t want, the end. OH AND MY LEG IS almost there. Almost 4 weeks–maybe 2-3 more and I am ready to get in the pool. Or maybe it will be so full of baby poop by then that that idea is a bad one. Maybe so. But i am fine for now. Pain comes and goes oh well that is life and I don’t remember the last time I didn’t feel something off so really…oh fucking well. You keep going and do what you can. I bitch, sure, but I have never given up entirely.
