Expiration Dates

  Exactly one year ago today my last show closed; August 15, 2010. I never...ever...ever thought it would take this amount of time for me to get another job. I'm sure I walked in to my apartment last year and thought that there wouldn't be days like this for long, meaning days with no rehearsals to go to, no shows to go perform. I do know that I walked in and said to myself, "Well, that was fun." 

  My job had lasted for seven months, a hearty chunk of time, however to me it was over in the blink of an eye. The moment I booked the job, I knew that it would one day come to an end and that in seven short months I would be right back where I started. I just didn't think I would be stuck in that phase for a year.

  That's the thing about this cracked-out business. It is so incredibly fickle and is never, ever consistent. It is like you can't fully celebrate any achievement because you know, deep-down, that it will be over before you know it. Sometimes you don't even know when it will be over. Your whole time on the job is spent in fear that soon it could be over and you therefore don't live the experience to the fullest. It's like a countdown clock on a bomb just ticking away, waiting to explode.

  I suppose you could look at the glass half-empty or half-full. You can fully immerse yourself in the experience and attempt to leave all of your fears at the door, not caring how long or how short this time in your life will last. As an actor knowing your fate, that task is very difficult, but none-the-less achievable. 

  I am trying to look at this time of unemployment as half-full, even though most would classify it as half-empty. I am attempting to immerse myself in other activities, even though I know the only activity I want to be doing seems impossible to grasp. I have surrendered myself to the theatre gods and am apprehensively faithful that they will sort everything out for me. I have no control over getting chosen for a job, just like I have no control over how long a job will last.