Normal in the City

I'm the type of person who never feels like she is doing enough. I feel positive about my first year in Chicago, but I still have a voice nudging me, "You're behind. Giddy-up." And then Stripes visits and asks what I have been writing, and I say, "Pfft. Not enough." But she presses what I did from August 2014 to August 2015, and I wrote two screenplays, three ten-minutes, a musical, and two-full-length plays. Plus a sketch show at SC. Yeah, when I list it, it sounds like a lot, but since only two of those things have been produced so far, it feels like close to nothing.

Yesterday I had a "regular" day. I was taking the bus home thinking I wish I had accomplished more, that I should really carve out some time on this holiday weekend to work, and I cycled back through my day.

6:30 - rise, drink water, brush teeth, wash face, stretch
7:00 - read the news, some spirituality articles, answer a couple emails
8:00 - set off for aerobic step and muscle sculpt class
10:00 - make yogurt parfaits and watch an episode of Portlandia
10:30 - grade English 101 papers
1:00 - have pb&j lunch
1:20 - off to school, listen to an improv podcast on commute
2:00 - teach English 101 (grammar quiz, essay feedback, facilitating discussions)
3:30 - meet with two students struggling for different reasons during office hours
4:15 - scarf some egg salad while watching clips of Mindy Kaling on talk shows
4:30 - scoot out to meet up with TQ for a skillet cookie
6:00 - a Q & A with Aidy Bryant at SC
7:00 - grab a cab to attend my coworker's interactive theatre piece about mushroom caps
9:15 - take a bus home, thinking about my day
10:00 - recap the day with Bisque, send some night emails
10:45 pass out, have a stress dream about auditions

This is a GOOD day, no matter how normal it feels to me. I have to remember that while I am rolling my eyes at someone yelling about mushrooms stroganoff in a a small theatre space, or while I'm clutching my coat tight around me as I walk into work muttering, "why do I live here," or while I nearly gag on my dinner because more students needed time to debrief than expected, I am living a v. cool existence. It would be the highlight of some people's week to do even one of these things! This is why I live in a snowglobe and slush through muck and feel the stress of possibility.

Weekend Productivity

This weekend's productivity has been a complete joke. In the very tiny time period I had between my five hour Saturday rehearsal and going to see Rye's new play, I scheduled in an hour long break to make and eat a pumpkin pizookie. I regret nothing. But my grading pile is roughly the exact same as it was when I left school Friday.

I have not set myself up for success in this upcoming week of a million hours of rehearsal, but I can't imagine any other way I could have lived. I needed each foray into the unnecessary. Using my Sweet Tomatoes coupon with Kale and Shells. TINY CORNBREADS FOR ALL. Talk of ghosts. The monster bar and haunted basement. My castmate's house party themed Robots and Sluts (for the record, I was a robot). Cuddling up on Kale's pull-out couch, falling asleep to Adventureland and Ru's soft snores. Riding my scooter towards mountains at sunrise. Six hours of improv rehearsal today. A subpar horror film with mucho above par people at the cute arty cinema on the main strip of town. Writing this dumb post instead of grading one more screenwriting presentation.

Some nuggets. Bug is holding white cheddar popcorn seasoning.

True or false: sometimes you have to sabotage yourself, just for a commercial break, in your otherwise "put-together" life. Ex: Ice cream for breakfast--indulgent, kinda nice, and reminds you how good oatmeal feels in your bod? Or, indulgent, dumb, you-should-know-better-don't-waste-your-time-being-a loser? Ditto watching YouTube clips of Cheaters. Procrastinating your dang work for three whole days. Three things I did this weekend that I can't tell how to feel about.

No other road. No other way.