Thinning Clouds

Took an Uber Pool home from friends' apartment Sunday night listening to a podcast by writers I want to work for. It was just after 9 PM, and the clouds were thin, vulnerable. I looked out at them from the freeway I didn't have to drive on and never wanted to arrive.

I've had horrible insomnia this week. Google says it's excessive levels of estrogen, which might also explain why I'm not happy in the morning. I take comfort in my purple slippers and when I have a plan I'm excited about. Like how tonight I am really excited to do a show (for the first time since Mothers' Day when I was part of an improvised rap musical about Ted Bundy) and then girls' night. I don't know what my life will look like in an year, but if we're not underwater, I'll be watching Westworld. I had the same sink as graduation approached. "No matter what the Mad Men finale will happen a year from now."

A month ago I couldn't shut up about all the possibilities ahead. By last week I felt devastated. Rejections are the job. Truly no one doesn't go through this. If I'm sad that pilot I was put up for didn't go through, imagine how the showrunners feel. Is editing mini rejections?

I asked Puhg to ask me some questions that don't have to do with my career. I even walk like an anxious person. I pick the spot on my head raw. One good thing is I am over waiting. This up and down took it out of me. That feels good. But I do stuff myself full of ideas and plans and projects to busy this time I should be enjoying. I read a book in a week, which hasn't happened since I rode trains. That feels good. I lay by the pool on a warm day, also good.

I bank on this soon feeling normal. I have many good signs that I can choose to take as bad signs. I am trying not to. I think of my friends who have all the good signs and refuse to acknowledge them. It's so obnoxious, but here I am.