Monday, September 17, 2012

More? There is no more!

My improv troupe Count Spatula has a month-long run coming up in October. We are all really excited about getting to do an entire hour and a half show by ourselves. This is one of the pictures from our flyer.




I have this picture as my desktop background at work. I guess this is what it feels like to be a proud parent. Most of my time at work is stuck between trying to figure out the point of what I am doing [and finding a reason to validate myself because of it. Spoiler Alert: Still looking for it] and staring at the promotional picture of Count Spatula. I just want more of improv. More of what makes me feel like I am doing something purposeful with my life. More of moving and living and not being confined to a chair all day. A chair that essentially is a torture device; allowing me the beautiful opportunity to sit and, you guessed it, think.

And thinking leads back to waiting. Waiting for the future. I’m going to be super pumped come next year, but right now, not so much. I just feel like I have no sense of identity. Any identity and self-image I do possess seems fleeting. I’m having that sinking feeling I’m falling behind again. Or missing something. And when I feel like that, I pull away and try to figure out how to be more like everyone else.  

Granted I have the horrible tendency to pull away from social activities when I feel lost and invisible. Which just makes the situation worse. I’m working on it. Kind of. It’s just draining to be so peppy about things that just don’t seem to matter. And it’s just hard to be in the moment when your mind is miles away. I’m just irritated by the mundaneness of the daily grind. I’m annoyed because I feel like everyone around me is too predictable, that includes myself. I’m looking for a breath of fresh air. Every day feels more suffocating than the last as I continually walk into a day that is indistinguishable from the rest.    

I guess I just feel like there should be more. And I know where I can get more. I’m seriously running out of reasons why I’m not there.  

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