I Choose, I Deal.

"It's the Eye of the Beholder"

These words of wisdom are passed from my brother to me via early-morning text. He's up way past bedtime in DC, and I'm up early on a Saturday morning in London. When I sleep with many things on my brain, I awake in confusion, emotionally charged and frantic. So that may have happened today.

I reflect on the year, diminishing the achievements I've accomplished, fixating on my year of dogwalking and dubbing it unfulfilling. I think about continuing on towards "the dream" in spite of all its drawbacks. I think of how I'll be received in the States, how the exoticism I've clung to these past six years will dissipate as I do the same stuff I've been doing abroad, at home.

I think this is where someone should sagely say, "but nobody really gives a shit, Sal."

(excuse the expletives).

There's a nice ringing of truth in that. Everyone is engrossed in their own lives, their own progressions, their own successes, and when they've got them, their own children's successes. It's my poor parents who must find a new way of bragging about their stay-at-home-artistic-daughter (and yes, if you say that in a British accent, it sounds like "stay-at-home-autistic-daughter", but let's gloss over that). I bring them wholesomeness and joy, that's how they'll brag. 

I guess what I'm trying to say? I dread going home. I dread being me in an old-me setting. I dread comparing myself to my siblings, my friends, my cousins, my parents' hopes of who I should've been.  I think that's the worst, going to a home which doesn't quite understand the choices you've made, but tries to support you nonetheless.

I didn't choose the easy way. I didn't choose the prescriptive way. What I chose was a life of rejection and self-doubt. But I choose, so I deal. I could easily choose another job, and perhaps I will miraculously find one that allows me to be active while also being mentally challenged and creative. Maybe that job is acting.

The Doggy Dilemma

I am bombarded with dogs, walking and walking until walking doesn't hurt anymore. If I wear thin socks, my toes numb throughout the day. If I forget to cut my nails, my toes cut into each other and bleed. I get more poop on my hands than is socially acceptable. I still love my job (insofar as I can). The dogs are personal reminders that every visitor deserves a tail wag. It is such a joy to play a part in their simple outlook on life. I'm out with dogs, I meet other dogs, I get other clients, I'm even more busy.

What's funny though, is that I took this job to be flexible so that I could take more time to become an actor. I am completing this job as an admin assistant while also walking eight doggies per day. I am not allowing myself time to pursue acting.

And here's the thing. I really shouldn't dread going home. Going home releases me from big-girl responsibilities, like paying rent (although I bet my dad will charge minimally to teach me to be fiscally responsible). This means I have a platform for growth; space to dance, a piano to play, and most importantly, the time to develop my craft. Perhaps I shouldn't dread home at all, but welcome it just as openly as it welcomes me.

What Do You Think?

I guess it's nice to just chat to friends, to family. They, in one way or another, envy me. They envy the freedom I seem to exude. The fact that I'm constantly moving, not being burdened by the monotony of a desk job. They see a woman who is always one audition away from being onstage again. It's so simple, it's such a beautiful life and yet I scoff at it. Sure, 2016 didn't leave me with any promises that I'm going in the right direction, but I keep choosing and keep choosing to do as I do. Perhaps one day I will break out of the acting spiral, perhaps one day I will spiral straight into the job of my dreams. I just need to realize that the more time I invest, the more reward I'll reap. Surely I will get something that teaches me, progresses me. I hope to live every day, every year, with the understanding that there is a lesson there somewhere, no matter what I'm doing and where. It's the only way forward for me. It's the only way forward. Period.

We'll start with chords, shall we? Watch Me