BACK TO THE DRAWING BOARD, NERDS.
So, The Thing isn’t happening. I auditioned virtually for Universal Studios Japan and Beijing a few months ago and, honestly, I made it decently far in the proceedings. So, like, good for me. I’m gonna hang on to that. It’s been a while since I’ve been able to audition for anything, so it was nice to not get an immediate “no” on my first time back around the block.
But! Hysterically, the official “no” did arrive just as I was pulling on my Jurassic World crop top and getting ready for a day of fun at Universal Studios Orlando. And, again. Fine. Cool. I don’t speak Mandarin, this was probably the correct decision for everyone involved.
SO, NOW WHAT?
Because I still feel like I need to get the hell out of here, if only for a little while. My literal dreams hurt. I wake up in the morning with my stomach already upset. I need a change of scenery.
I need to go somewhere so that I can come back, and you’ll be proud of me.
So, I think the new plan is grad school and, fuck, I feel too old. But I think I want to write plays and books, and I would like someone to give me money for them, so maybe an MFA would teach me how to do that? (Do you know of a great fully funded Creative Writing MFA for tall, sad weirdos? Hit me up in the comments!)
I’m just ready to look at something else, you know? I’m ready to shake off the old, familiar ghosts and (most likely) acquaint myself with some fresh ones. Real, maudlin talk: I am sort of a dramatic disaster of a person, so I’m going to fuck shit up no matter where I go and, at a certain point, I just need to accept that.
(For example: remember that time I had a one-night stand with a puppeteer that turned into a full-weekend stand, and then The Juggler was angry with me for talking about The Puppeteer in my stand-up? My life is hilariously bizarre and I’m already crying.)
I remember that time. I remember all the times. I am a stupid depression elephant and I LONG TO FORGET.
GET OUT OF MY DREAMS, JERKS.
(I’m feeling TRIUMPHANTLY sorry for myself this morning, do forgive me.)
So, yeah, that’s the plan! Write the plays I should be writing at this very moment, take a deep breath, fight the imposter syndrome, try to sleep, apply to grad schools. Right? Yeah? Good? (I hope.)
I do still hope, that part’s true. I’m not historically proud of myself, but I am gonna give myself credit for being a resilient little potato. I’ve bounced back from worse than not getting to work in a steampunk-themed chocolate restaurant at a theme park in China for a year.
I can do this. You can do this.
(Happy World Mental Health Day. Drink some water. Take your meds. You’re doing great.)
https://www.patreon.com/daniherd (If you’re so inclined.)