and so we press on . .

This is from a famous novel or similar and I'm confident my friend Tim knows what it is .. Ulysses or similar I imagine. Although then I find myself humming Bob Seger's "Against the Wind."

I'm notorious for causing myself unnecessary pain and worry. Masochistic, yes?

I used to go to my long-since exboyfriend's website to see what he was up to and hope that it was nothing. More upset when it wasn't. Now I just flip to the comedy section of Time Out New York. Haven't seen his name in there in a while. 'Course that could mean he's out of state and doing something more important than what I'm doing right now.

And then I hate myself for doing that. Thinking that.

So today I went to the website of the production company that shafted me a couple years ago. Their movie just got into the Cannes Film Festival. Not the one I acted in . . . no mention of that one except that it's still in "post production" . . They're doing plenty of little projects that are reminiscent of the play of mine they put up and have since abandoned any note of. They don't even mention the director, who is easily one of the most talented theater professionals in New York.

And so with the conveniences of the internet come a multitude of ways to torture oneself.

I pull the black and white postcard out of its hiding place behind the list of Production Contacts at my cube and will it to burn into my brain, bleed into it with indelible ink:

NEVER LET THE ODDS
KEEP YOU FROM DOING
WHAT YOU KNOW
IN YOUR HEART YOU WERE
MEANT TO DO.

Since whittling my life's goals down to two: 1) get out of debt, 2) get collection of plays published, my path has become quite clear. Even on a day to day level. Do I need to go to Williamsburg at 11pm to see my friend's band on a tuesday night? Does that help me achieve either of my goals? Nope. Do I need to buy a dresser? Nope.

Do I need . .do I need . .do I need ..

And so I start adding my real goals to my "to do" list at work. Start thinking of the various places my next paycheck will/will not go. Remember that God put me here for a reason and if I don't use the gifts He gave me, I slight not only myself and God, but you, my family, my friends, my neighbors, my co-workers, humanity. Were I a scientist with the cure for cancer but instead I decided to be a Production Assistant at a cable network, I'd surely be shafting someone, no?

It's just about outdoor drinking season and Druid's will open its outdoor garden soon and I will gulp wine or Yuengling, smoke the occasional cig (though am trying to stop once and for all) and drink some of this feeling away. Ugh, that was a poor last sentence. My apologies. It was like a Hallmark card for depressed people.