It was suggested to me a while back that all I’ve had are “jobs.” That what I need is a “CAREER.”
And my immediate angry need to defend myself snarls, “Well, how dare you? I am a THEATRE ARTIST. I act and teach and direct and write and even arts administrate when occasion calls for it. I have worked in theatre for over a decade, how dare you not RECOGNIZE ME?”
And is that the only real difference? That, in a CAREER, you get recognized?
Because damn. I’m sort of tired of chasing that.
Also, I have had a truly marvelous collection of “day jobs” in my CAREER, THANK YOU VERY MUCH as a theatre artist/writer/whatever I am. I have served beer and hot wings, I have supervised your children on the outdoor playground, I have sold SO MANY TICKETS, I have asked for your money on behalf of plants, I have taught you how to tell the whale sharks apart.
Once I was a polar bear.
Tomorrow I learn how to make coffee. I look forward to waking up early and smiling at you and asking you what kind of milk you would like.
Not to be That Guy, but “Not all those who wander are lost.”
I am grateful this morning, as I sip my own coffee (just whole milk, I’m not cool), for this vast array of bizarre experiences. I think the person who wants me to have a CAREER just wants me to be comfortable. And I wish I was brave enough to say, “But… I’m getting there.” I’m comfortable like this: being friendly to people so that I can afford to pursue my dreams.
So, come and visit me tomorrow! I’ll be so happy to see you.
(And I’ll still teach you how to tell the whale sharks apart.)