Rollercoaster

It was less a week of high highs low lows and more a week of normalized highs and medium level lows.

In a single day (Tuesday) a handful of unreal things happened that I would not have full stop ever believed could happen two years ago, but instead, there it was. Long hugs with AP and MR, letting my old gig friends into the front door of the studio. The studio I write in. A name drop and a nod of affirmation from my boss and her boss (the bossiest of bosses). Puhg, in the expensive shoes I bought him, stood watching from the far back corner as it all went down. And as it ended a friend from summer camp of all places arrived. I told my lunch break for us to have kale quinoa bowls and guac. And then bad news was delivered that should have made me quake and cry, but it just made me think a birthday cake waffle cone of salted cracked caramel was a good idea. (It was.)

Using the roller coaster emoji because some moments I feel fine, more than fine, there's a sheer optimism shooting from me. And then there's a quick zip of metal when I think about climate change. And then a screeching jerk of the boxcar when the fear steps into that operator's box. I see it in there with it's grey crater face, moving the joystick or pressing the button or whatever those teenagers do to keep everyone on the ride alive.

Got dizzy during my workout and sat on the floor for a few minutes. I know I have to relax more. I cried trying to sort out my Friday night plans specifically designed for unwinding. Saturday was sucked up and away by an exciting work project. I would never not have done it but I lost my moment to be chill, and also my moment to finish those two scenes of the musical. Twenty days left before deadline. I want to go on vacation, but not right now. I can't. But I will. One day. These are good problems to have. I used to be be much more stressed, but it's like my body is reacting worse than ever. Took two days (almost) totally off social media and it made a world of difference. It's uncanny how my happiness is ripped straight from out behind my eyes when I see everyone else.

Tried out Sabrina last night and Pretty Little Liars today. I imagine writing everything. I have so much spaz and sprinkle in me. I feel like I just moved to Chicago again, hungry for improv jams. I know one day I won't be sparkling when I read staffing newsletters, but today I am. I feel open like I did when I was 22 and knew if I needed to I could still work at McDonald's. When I was a full-on college professor I took an application for a Taco Bell. And then there's a point where going backward can kill you. Although I did meet a waiter at H_____ of P___ who said he left his giant firm because his blood pressure was going to literally kill him. I said, "You're killing it" sincerely, but I know it sounded absolutely putrid. I've spent at least a couple hours wondering how to right the situation. But attending any energy to him would make him feel even more self-conscious. I think the only possible resolution is to see him years from now and say his words still ring true.

On the Cross

Sometimes when I'm cruising over to Silverlake I get a suburban sense. It's not the flowery air I don't think and the houses don't look familiar, neither are the palm trees or the winding hills. I wish I could figure it out, but I can't. We do not have to know the something, we need only to recognize the something and not ignore it.

I've been failing more, which means expanding the odds. I biffed it at a stand-up set. Why not? I said going in. Can't hurt. In hindsight, perhaps it hurt. You never know when someone is keeping a tab, or a list, and blacklining your name. There's something to wasting people's time. But there's also something to risking wasting people's time to make people's time. There's also something to be said for building up that callous of opportunities miscarried. I'm in denial it's almost May. LA has that same Time Stands Still Syndrome that keeps everyone in Arizona in Arizona. It's as though no season has passed. I wonder if we stop feeling behind when we get out from the backside or if we stop feeling behind when we stop feeling behind.

The stress I think most people feel doesn't hurt me. I came from humbler beginnings, so I have less to lose. My stress is a particular kind of twitch between my brain and my eye hole from refreshing application pages and proofing my script for the four-hundred-millionth time. Not stress, but my wheel is from spinning over the same conversation I plan to have with a coworker who hates me, a conversation she will never agree to. I focus like a laser sending in my materials, zap, zap, zap. Puhg in bed for an hour reading. He says, "I bet you a million dollars your next opportunity does not come from whatever you just did." And he is very likely correct.

Meanwhile I find, in general, here, people look inward more. The benefits are the "energies" and "manifesting" and the possibilities. No one decent soul will judge a dream. At the same time, I admit I call my Congressman less. I wait to be told more. I have become optimistic about enough change in two years that all is not lost, which I was certain of in a winter city.

There's a ball of hairy pressure on seconds, I explain over a bowl of spicy gnocchi. If I loved something the first time, I am worried it cannot be surpassed the second. I worry over this on multiple levels. If you and I have so much fun, how do we even go up? If I had a perfect day at that theme park why would I chance a second trip? Isn't there that fact about drug hits? That's what someone told me. She had done acid exactly one time because scientifically it would never improve. I'd never do acid, but I would relate that logic to seeing a movie twice.

Millennials need more signposts at their careers, I'm told. More promotions. This has been true of me. I have never stopped moving. What would it be like to be in the same groove for ten years? Even five. I am relieved I do not fear a stable day, but I am certain it is an ocean away.