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All Work & No Play Means Kitten Doesn’t Blog

February 2, 2014

I haven’t written in a while. I have blogs in my head: A Twin update. My time with Z. Work, work and did I mention work? I want to write about my ongoing, internal debate about whether I should try online dating. I want to write about my increasing desire to travel. I don’t have as much free time I used to. I know I need to make the time. Successful writers usually give the same advice to aspiring writers: If you want to be a writer, write! I need to get back in the habit. I need to make time to write.

It’s Sunday night. If Z had not come over and spent all morning with me, I would’ve gone into work. Tomorrow is going to be crazy. I’m doing two people’s jobs now, since my evil co-worker did us all a favor and got another job. The immediate aftermath of her departure was great. It was just before Christmas and the whole staff walked around quietly celebrating, calling her departure a Christmas miracle. The office atmosphere is so much nicer now. Everyone is calm and happy. We help each other out and laugh comfortably. And I’ve been the most enthusiast embracer of the post-evil-one mood. But now I have to do her job. I have to sell shows. Fill seats. Buy media. Market performing arts. I’m a graphic designer. I just want to make things pretty. I spend the weekends working on graphic design now. My days are filled with lining up interviews and making sure crappy, 30-second videos get made and looking at budgets and trying to find out where the hell Lamar is putting my digital billboard ads because I sure didn’t see them on my bike ride to the park.

There is a science to advertising. I know this. I know that advertising can make me do almost anything. But I’m finding out that local tv stations and billboard companies will fill your head with a million reasons why you should give them your money without being able to show how they are actually going to help you sell seats to your show. Marketing is complicated and the check-list, hair-twisting, pretend-to-know-what-I’m-doing bullshit my predesessor was doing was crap. But what I’m doing is probably crap too because I  don’t know what I’m doing either. I’m undergoing a crash course in marketing while abandoning my graphic design dreams.

It’s worth it, though. A t-rex tried to bite my head off the other day. It was just a puppet. But it was a big, realistic puppet and it really scared me. I was photographing a dinosaur-themed kid’s performance, right below the stage and the puppeteer made the t-rex lunge at my head. Lucianna Souza sang in our theater. Her voice was amazing. I watched a group of high school kids rock out with local musicians on a Sunday afternoon. And yesterday I was painting clouds and cutting them out for collage-style poster I’m working on. I love my job but I’m worried that I’m turning into a workaholic. The desire to get caught up is a constant temptation. And it never ends.

Two Christmases ago I was living with my Dad, waking up every morning scared out of mind and wondering what the hell was going to become of me. I had not yet recovered from the brainwashing that told me I was worthless, that I wasn’t good enough or talented enough or successful enough. “Nothing but a burden,” is the phrase that he said to me. That phrase still haunts me. Though now, with more validation of it’s falseness than belief in it’s accuracy.

Now, I’m being trusted to do the work of two professionals. People are complimenting me for my forward thinking and maturity. And I’m still laughing every day. I work hard and still play with friends. And I’m valued for who I am.

We had a staff retreat last week. I sat at the big table with my co-workers, feeling not only at ease but accepted. I felt the equal of every one in the room. I also felt like I was playing at being a grown up. When I left my husband two years ago, I couldn’t imagine being in that room with those people, being respected and maybe even admired. It seems like a miracle. So, it’s with gratitude that I work nights and weekends and stress over ticket sales and an unrealistic workload. It’s with a smile that I go in on Saturday afternoons to organize and work on a new poster.

But it also means I’m not writing. These little blog posts have sustained me and helped me remember the little things that happen in my little life. I feel sometimes that If I don’t write about something, it’s not real. To write about it brings it to life, sets my life in stone. And gives a barometer to look back on. It’s also a step towards achieving one of my dreams: to write a book, one day. I won’t get there if I don’t make time to write.

So, here’s to more blogs. About Z, about work, about love and other minor things.

Here’s to the stepping stones that will lead to a book deal and interviews with Terri Gross and Jon Stewart and the movie deal and the second book…..

Stay tuned.

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From → Rantings

2 Comments
  1. User permalink

    Glad you’re back. Missed the blogs!

  2. Kitten permalink

    : )

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