*Direct quote from the opera concert on Saturday, after I (Papagena) am told I cannot make-out with the new-found love-of-my-life, Papageno (Thomas Franzky, a truly dear baritone). I cheated it out to the audience and huffed off-stage like a melodramatic adolescent. It drew laughs, as intended, and was fun. Soon as I get the DVD, I'll do a little Youtubin' and post it here.*
The weather is beautiful today. As it was yesterday. Seriously, it's 25C, with light clouds: perfect weather. I want to be outside. But sit in my back yard which is full of yard waste (we destroyed the dogwood!! Ha haa!!! It is GONE!!!!) and sadly lacking in grass (too much freaking shade from that freaking dogwood. But it's gone now! Boo-yah!) and the size of a postage stamp. And I can't listen to Lucia Popp singing Strauss and Orff and Dvorak when I'm outside, so here I am, in my dark house, wishing I had a decent yard, or a nearby cafe with a patio to sit and read and have a drink and hang out with the puppy. But no, I live in the burbs, where there is no life, no energy, no vibrancy. Boo.
I haven't heard from the people who interviewed me a week ago. They said they'd be in contact by Monday. It's Wednesday. No way I got the job. I'm really starting to think I should just bite the bullet, wait tables, and be done with it. Is it entirely pathetic for a married 26/7 (birthday's next month) from an "elite" undergrad programme and aspirations of operatic stardom to wait tables like a highschool student? Or is it just in-keeping with the performer lifestyle?
Does anyone, ANYONE, have any brilliant ideas as to how I can avoid collection agents coming after me for debts I cannot pay? I hadn't realised that the only thing keeping me from worrying about all this student debt disaster was the stress of the upcoming shows. Now that they are done, I have nothing but time to think about how entirely destroyed everything is. I am filled with so much hope, and so much despair, at the same time. I hope for my performing potential and future, and I despair of ever being able to afford the training and the agency necessary to make it happen. I'm not depressed at all, just very very worried. All the time.
Wow, this post was not supposed to be this heavy. See, this is how my mind works now. Always coming back to the heavy stuff. No fun. But hey! Sunshine and leaves and I spent three hours with my friend Katie and her daughter yesterday, outside, walking around downtown. Isla is seriously, one of the most fun children to be around since...ever! She's very interactive and just a delight. She has crazy curly hair, courtesy of her daddy and lovely blue eyes and an enormous smile. She's a joy.
Let's end there, with sunshine and babies. Ah.
Honestly, I would wait tables and keep searching. Waiting tables is an easily droppable job when the right one comes around. If I didn't have Chunky (and the damn need to have to work 8 to 5--or at least a husband that worked 8 to 5) I would have spent that last month working at Walmart or something.
ReplyDeleteAnd as for the job taking two days longer to contact you--you never know. I got calls back from people weeks after I interviewed. They're just slow!