update

My day in three words:

Attacked by goats.


My life in two words:

Frustration nation.


An indicator of progress in my general state of mental unhealth:
Today when I freaked out instead of thinking that every creative person I've ever admired must be and have always been a totally together ball of lovely grace as compared to my batshit self, I thought, "hey, bet they're more crazy than me."

Also, attacked by goats.

(no subject)

At some point I will be able to function again. Maybe even tomorrow, right now it doesn't feel like it though.

At least today is the last day of the industrial, after which I should find the eneregy to tell you all of the goat story, and to ramble on about how weird it is to be on a farm, in peasant costumes, and then see like random trucks go by -- I love technology and strongly doubt I would actually want to live a truly simple life, but I think it is a tremendous shame that we are unable to distinguish between want and need in our use of it.

I 100% must get my shit together for Tiny Dynamite by our Friday rehearsal. This involves some line stuff, but mostly giving myself a strict talking to. Once I can do that, I can face four days of audition doom (2 Saturday, 2 Sunday, 1 Monday, 1 Tuesday) with a clear conscience. Unfortunately this also seems to involve pulling a cockney accent out of my ass, which I actually think I can do, as the text is half written that way anyway -- besides, I've always wanted to play a 16-year-old ex-prostitute working at a pig slaughterhouse. Yeah, it's just that sort of week, you know?

There is also a possibility, that I hope to have resolved today, that over the weekend I will be working in the middle of the night becase of a deadline associated with something we cover in Europe. This is fine, but I just need to know so I can plan the state of well, everything.

I can't decide if I am or am not abiding by the "doing less to do more" rule in all this. Certainly the stuff I'm doing is not the sort of stuff I was yelling at myself for doing, but clearly there's a certain lack of understanding of the concept of pacing in all this, or perhaps there is just no such thing as pacing in this business.

I understand why all these people in the business seem to meditate or do yoga or whine on and on about some spiritual practise or other, because my god, you have to do something to keep it together, but lord knows if I've figured out what. And these people have support staff. Me? I'm just attacked by goats.

Mimi was a fucking ho.

today, three words

When allergies attack.