I’m not going to change out of my sweatpants today, World.
Date: March 2, 2014
Days Spent on Project: 378
Location: Apartment, Washington Heights, NYC
Person I would have sent it to: Sarah D.
Sarah, my third year at the Yale School of Drama, was another intern that worked in the costume shop. She helped sew many of the clothes that would go into my production of All’s Well That Ends Well that closed the season at the Yale Rep back in 2006.
She was there with her husband, Ted, who was a student at the Yale School of Drama- I think he was in the Theater Management program.
They now live in Ashland, Oregon, both working for the Oregon Shakespeare Festival.
Sarah has been vocally supportive of this project, liking many of the Cranes she sees me post on Facebook. She has also sent me a box of fabric, from her mother-in-law and another family friend who passed away from cancer. The friend died suddenly, from what I’m told, and wanted her “fabric scraps put to good use.”
Well, the fabric has been worked into this quilt, so that story is a part of this one now too.
Music I listened to while sewing: I just discovered what a song I keep hearing at the gym is. This means I’ve had it on repeat for a while now. It’s Benny Benassi and John Legend’s “Dance The Pain Away,” if you’re so curious.
Thoughts/Feelings behind the block: It’s after noon already! I walked the Dog at 7am, and then he and I went back to sleep. There is strangely nothing more comforting than a French Bulldog curled up next to you, snoring loudly.
I’m starting to worry that the emotional journeys I have during the day are actually out of my control.
Yesterday was a horrid day. I don’t know why. It just got progressively more down until I was at home at 7pm and feeling lost. I allowed myself the evening off- I didn’t work on my taxes, I didn’t draw, I didn’t write, I didn’t read. I turned on Netflix and let some TV stream for several hours until I went to bed at 1am.
Today, I know I should get myself to the gym and run out some of this anxiety. I don’t feel up for it. I should.
Last night, around 5am, I had a dream wherein I was cast as Seymour in a production of Little Shop of Horrors. I don’t know where it was, but it was a legitimate production; who knew I could sing and act still!? Halfway through “Downtown” I stopped singing. I walked off the set. My understudy was called in, went on, and the show ended. I had kept walking.
I woke up at 5am ready to cry. I do not want to stop. I do not want to leave. I do not think I’ve failed. I do not think I’m not “good enough” to cut it here. I do not know what to do anymore; I feel like everything I was supposed to do has happened and, yet, here I still am…