oh, the places you'll go...

Okay, last summer I decided that theater wasn't where my heart was. I just didn't want to work in the professional theater world. But because it's something I know and something I can do well, I keep finding my way back to it, even when I know it doesn't make me happy.

In February, I auditioned for a production of Our Town being done by the same (struggling) theater company I had just taken an administrative job with. I was being ridiculously underpaid, but I took the job because I thought it would look good on my resume and also because I worried that if I didn't take the job, the director (and also my brand-new boss) wouldn't even consider casting me. In fact, the date of my audition was one day after I was to let the board of directors and co-artistic directors know whether I would take said ridiculously underpaid administrative job. (Now that I've gotten to know these people, though, I don't think it would have mattered. They seem professional enough to compartmentalize their employees and their actors.)

So I took the job. And I auditioned. And I got the part I wanted. When Gary, the director/my boss/co-artistic director of Seventh Sister, had called and asked if I wanted to audition, I thought "Yay! It will be so fun to act again!" I didn't really take into consideration that the the last time I acted, I wasn't working full time, and I didn't have 19 performances altogether. I had no idea what I was getting myself into.

What I was getting myself into was this: Working all day and going to rehearsal until 10 every night for the last four weeks. I don't even know where April has gone. It arrived, things started turning green, I started wearing flip-flops again (even on cold days), and now it's almost May and we've opened the show. I've slacked a lot at my job, because I figure something's gotta give, and I'm fucking exhausted, and to be completely honest, I just don't care that much about my job.

And that's where I feel like a huge jerk. This company is really struggling, almost drowning, and they know it. Their office is disorganized chaos, their systems for doing things only half thought-through, their computer is old and decrepit, their internet is dial-up, they print out their sixteen different types of tickets on sixteen different colors of paper and then the office monkey (me, in this case) has to cut them up on a paper cutter with unreliable measuring marks and so old it looks like it came from my fourth grade art classroom. And I would really love to be the person who helps them get back on track, but I'm getting paid so very little and I've already spent plenty of time working for theater for almost nothing. I'm not really at the point right now where I can just be content making so little money that I actually qualify for Medicaid. So every time we have a staff meeting, I'm thinking in the back of my mind how I really want to get the hell out. But on top of that is the fact that I really like Gary and Mary (the co-artistic directors) and I want this theater to succeed. I love that there's a theater in Lancaster working to put out art that makes you think instead of art that you can buy themed t-shirts and pins for.

But I also really want a job where the systems are already in place and there's someone who can train me. And I also really want a job that involves editing and writing and publications. And I also really want to make enough money that I can afford to live on my own. So. That's that.

Our Town has gotten really good reviews, and it's actually going really well. When I'm at the theater and waiting in the wings, I feel fine. I don't have time to think about what I'd rather be doing, because doing a show is about being in the moment. It's in the hours leading up to the performance that I think about how I can't wait for this show to be over, how I can't wait until I can tell my boyfriend "Yes, I am free tonight" and tell my friends "Yes, I can come to that party." How I can't wait until I finish a workday and actually stop thinking about theater for an evening. How I can't wait until I can eat dinner at Tristan's house again, because his mom is an awesome cook.

I can't be consumed by the theater anymore. It doesn't leave me with enough self left, and I'm just not okay with that these days. I need my self in good working order so I can figure out what's next.

And that's that.